Is writing a blog, but I made a commitment to myself that this Camp NaNo I was going to stick to it and achieve my goal, so I am writing every day and I am posting a blog every day if it kills me, and today I think it might.
I knew that I would struggle to sleep last night, but I decided I didn't need a sleeping tablet or Valium before I went to bed, and by the time I realised how terribly the attempting sleep thing was going, it was too late for a medication based intervention, because by that point I would not have got up on time if I took it, so I fell asleep somewhere around three to half-past three this morning, after having finishing packing most of the flat, taking some stuff downstairs and getting rid of some furniture to my neighbour's son. When my alarm went off at seven-thirty this morning, the furthest thing from what I wanted to do would have been to get up and get my life moved out of my flat, but the van was downstairs and there were moving guys coming to help and it was an expensive undertaking to get that far, so there was no going back on it by then, so I was just really glad that my mum made me a mug of tea and brought it to me whilst I came around. When we called my dad - there wasn't enough space for us all to stay at the flat - to suggest he get coffee from McDonald's, he also picked up egg McMuffins and that made functioning a bit easier, but then I could feel a panic attack coming on and that did not make anything easier, so it was another day for Diazepam. I warned the movers I was on medication and might be a bit dopey, and they were cool and within three hours, most of everything was downstairs and on the van. We had been dreading it for weeks and it was still a mammoth task and a really long day, but getting everything out was the biggest hurdle in my head and all of that went well.
The next hurdle, which I was marginally less worried about, was my dad driving the van full of my stuff out of London and all the way back up to Manchester. The motorways were pretty clear except one section of the A something something where there was an accident, but even that wasn't too bad and we were clear of it quickly, and we made it back to Manchester in pretty good time.
Hurdle number three, which could have been a nightmare, was getting everything off the van and into my storage unit. Well, aside from the things I needed to bring back to the house. At first, it looked like there were no trolleys to be able to move everything, then we found one, and then my mum managed to find someone going into the other bit of the building and brought a second. With a little system of me sorting what was storage and what wasn't, Mum packing and pushing a trolley to the unit and then my dad emptying the trolley into the unit, we did pretty well actually. and everything was unloaded in a bit less than forty-five minutes, so we could head home, pick up the puppy (he's not a puppy, he's six, but he's our puppy), snuggle him and love him and tell him we missed him whilst he wriggled and barked at us and licked my face, have cheese on toast for dinner and finally shower down.
The building I used to live in is hot and pretty airless, and we've been doing a lot all day. Even sitting in the van is a bit trying, because three adults with elbows doesn't go smoothly and something about the seats was making my hips and knees ache, or maybe I was tense in the same position for too long... but either way, it was a long old day and I am so glad I'm back in Manchester, in my jjs (I call PJs jjs, get over it) and just getting ready to tuck myself into bed because I am beat. Also, my phone was basically dead on the way because my dad needed Waze to get out of London and find the M25, so I couldn't write from the van like I tried. Tomorrow, I'll write part two and the reasons I will miss the flat.
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