Ooookay people...I have been here in the dolls house for a month, a period of time which, seems no longer than the blink of an eye. To say the move, everything leading up to it and all that has followed it, was an epic negotiation would be like saying Donald Trump was inarticulate...ie to understate fact.
Kenny bless him, had extended our old home over the years and created lots of extra space which I then subsequently set about filling with stuff. I was particularly prolific during my frequent bouts of cash incontinence, an affliction which affects many of us GOWNS... as we seek out ways of filling the void created by the departure of our loved ones.
In my case I was filling those spaces with clothes and shoes... and doing so, without contemplation of ever having to move this burgeoning collection, let alone try to fit it into another space a third of the size. As many of you know my tactics are simple when it comes to dealing with 'grown up' stuff...I employ a 'head in the sand approach'...only dealing with something at the point at which I have no choice. This strategy has generally worked well for me, and the day before I left my old home... I decided that such a point had been reached in respect of packing up my clothes, shoes and toiletries etc.
Now I knew still had quite a bit of stuff despite some earlier attempts at a cull...which was to the benefit of several charity shops, who were delighted to receive my inexplicable purchases...I mean bright yellow heels with black polka dots?.. I can only presume I bought them to go with a bright yellow dress which... when teamed up with the shoes made me look like a giant cheese that was going mouldy from the feet up... a lot of items therefore, were often unworn and still sporting the price tags. However, I was totally and completely unprepared for the extent to which my old home had cleverly absorbed my profligate spending habits and artfully concealed them from me.
Some of you will remember how I struggled to pack for my Vegas trip...well this was worse...much much worse. Ok it was a no brainer in that there was no selection process involved...I mean my functional underwear...and well... my other type of underwear designed for a different function... was all coming with me...it was simply a case of making it all portable. Simples right!! Hell no... I began to unearth items I had totally abandoned ownership of, for example I discovered 8 pairs of the same jeans...as well as dresses which I had also purchased in multiples of...well even I am too embarrassed to say. How could this have happened... I thought, as the true extent of my need of retail therapy began to reveal itself? How can a reasonably sane middle aged woman... ok... middle aged at least... purchase the same item on many occasions and then simply forget having done so? Maybe my experimentation with alcohol in the early days after losing Kenny had affected my cerebral functioning...more than I had anticipated...I mean the clothes mountain which was now threatening to engulf me was symptomatic of some quite significant brain damage.
I began to panic when I had filled 6 suitcases and there was still enough clobber left to clothe a small country...not only this but the clock was ticking...leaving no real prospect of spending a last night in my old bedroom before 4am.
I actually broke down at one point, completely shamed by the undeniable evidence of my behaviour...which was further compounded by the fact that earlier the very same day I had spent a further hundred quid on an outfit to wear especially for the move.
32 bin liners later my task was finally complete...I was sweating like a pig cornered in a back alley by a rampant boar...which obviously necessitated a shower and the further subsequent horrific realisation ...that the entire contents of super drug still lurked in my bathroom and needed to be made portable too.
12 bottles of the same shampoo, 6 body scrubs...all unused...at least 15 cans of Immac spray...I mean is that indicative of a secret gorilla complex do you think? I managed to box all of these items...and their companions within another couple of hours...though I was far too embarrassed to write on the boxes the true nature of the content... so labelled them all 'paperwork' instead.
The move itself was epic. Thankfully I had fabulous help...but as the day wore on we all had growing doubts that my little Dolls House would be able to cope with the serious onslaught of boxes, furniture, bin liners and obscene amount of paperwork I had amassed...which was actually commented on as being being abnormally heavy?
Finally at midnight the last van load of 'stuff' was forced into every available orifice of my new home...and my brilliant help had engineered it so that I had left my old home for the final time without realising I was doing so, thus sparing me that final 'goodbye old life moment' which I had feared even more than the prospect of unpacking all the clothes shoes and toiletries which had eventually been successfully delivered to the Dolls House.
In the month that I have been here...me and my little house are slowly getting to know each other...and the early signs are that we are going to get on. I tried to lessen the burden on my new home by spending some more time at the tip...getting invited to a Christmas 'works do' by the guys employed there in the process...and slowly but surely a compromise is taking shape.
With care and much deliberation my shoes...clothes and toiletries found new homes...and now I wear 2 outfits each day in the hope of wearing the clothes out more quickly to make space...er well... for anything new that might take my fancy... Ooookay people... Rome wasn't built in a day...cash incontinence is a recognised...er medical problem?... with bankruptcy being the only known cure...so I am not taking this lightly...in fact I'll have you know... all those shopping bags weigh a flippin ton.
On the whole I am happy with my choices...though inevitably we GOWNS have moments when we do question those negotiations...and struggle with the emotions that threaten to overwhelm us, often at the times when we think we are at our strongest. This happened to me this morning...I decided to sort a large cupboard into which a lot of 'stuff' had been placed temporarily in order to make some space at the height of the disarray. My colour drained in an instant... as I pulled out not 1 but 7 black bin liners all marked with the label... CLOTHES...and as I checked the contents therein...I have to tell you people...what I discovered was NOT bloody paperwork.
Keep smiling one and all xxx