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Moving stuff
I was literally dragged out of bed this morning by my family. They want to move stuff, and clean stuff, and vacuum stuff, and dust stuff, and move stuff, and tidy stuff, and organise stuff, and move stuff, and change stuff and move stuff and move stuff and move stuff.
Seven hours they've been at it. Seven hours of organising this house and its contents. We discovered we own more towels than your average Hilton, and more books than the Library of Congress, which is actually just how I remember it. Even when we were moving all the time, and we had no money and no cutlery and no anything, we did have books. And towels. We stole towels from everywhere we lived.
I still can't believe we're here, not living in two rooms, not sharing a bathroom with twelve other people, not struggling for money, not living off salad sandwiches, not... anything.
We've finally got somewhere to live, and it's been four years and I haven't got over it.
Seven hours they've been at it. Seven hours of organising this house and its contents. We discovered we own more towels than your average Hilton, and more books than the Library of Congress, which is actually just how I remember it. Even when we were moving all the time, and we had no money and no cutlery and no anything, we did have books. And towels. We stole towels from everywhere we lived.
I still can't believe we're here, not living in two rooms, not sharing a bathroom with twelve other people, not struggling for money, not living off salad sandwiches, not... anything.
We've finally got somewhere to live, and it's been four years and I haven't got over it.