It really doesn't matter if you do it on your own or get some help, whether paid or voluntary. Moving house is exhausting, stressful, dirty, endless, sad. Here are some thoughts from a battle-hardened Queenie, who has two moves in less than twelve months under her belt.
Superquinn reuseable shopping bags are the greatest invention known to man. You can tip the contents of your bedside locker into one. You can tip the contents of your bathroom cabinet into another. You can tip the contents of the drawer for miscellaneous items into a third. And bingo - the most annoying part of packing is done. When you get to your new place, just tip them back in. Voila. Everything is where it should be and you still can't find it.
Having long dark hair is the most useless invention known to man. It gets EVERYWHERE. I have spent all day picking dead bits of myself off the floors, the bath, the kitchen, the bottom of my wardrobe, the underside of my couch, the mattress, in front of the mirror where I dry my hair............ no wonder I'm thin, I must use all my bioenergy replacing lost hair.
Clean is relative. I thought my apartment was clean (well I gave it the Queenie version of a good clean the other day, but I knew in my heart that I was fooling myself). That was before I met my tenant's mother yesterday. Who spent an hour telling me how clean and neat her girl was. So I had another look this morning, and I am a slattern. A filthy wench. I really am. I cannot believe I have never poisoned a house guest, or murdered a small child with germs. No wonder I'm so healthy, I am probably cultivating my own forms of 'good' bacteria.
So I had to clean the place again. The moral of the story being, try not to be a slattern. And if that's not possible, don't clean until you are actually on your way out the door.
The only way to get teabags stains off a stainless steel sink is with chemicals that give you a rash on your hands because you've already thrown out your last pair of Marigolds.
The best way to move is to engage in short frenetic bursts of activity followed by periods sitting on the sofa drinking tea and not thinking about what has to be done next. When you are rested, the next task will come to the forefront of your mind automatically. Any other methodology will render you a gibbering wreck. As I demonstrated yesterday while trying to finish it all off by seven o'clock.
Cleaning fridges is the most boring activity on the planet. At least when you're doing the oven, there's the whole 'stand back, wear goggles, don't inhale' drama of the mousse. Why don't they just make fridges in a nice rust colour, which is the colour of all the stains in mine? Sooooo much yesterday's Indian...........
The only way to figure out whether everything will fit in your car is to actually PUT the stuff in the car. No amount of lazyman measuring will sort this out for you.
Madonna is the best cleaning music. Followed by Moby.
Don't answer the phone when you're packing. It won't be an offer of help. It will be an enquiry as to how you are getting on by yourself. If you ignore this crucial piece of advice and do answer the phone, don't lose the plot with the person on the other end. They are not moving house and do not understand the strain you are under and are ringing you because they are nice. Not because they have been put on this earth to drive you insane.
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