Thoughts thunk whilst packing...

Dear Reader, I am moving. And this means I have spent a LOT of time this week packing up all my belongings and eating bacon with my fingers out of despair. Here are some things that have crossed my fevered mind in this time



THOUGHTS THUNK WHILST PACKING

• I could just throw all my stuff away right? I mean, it's just STUFF. I don't need it-I could start a zen new life of not actually owning anything!
• WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY FAIRY LIGHTS
• How many forks do I actually need for the next week?
• I haven't read this book!
• I forgot I had this book!
• Jesus, why do I have THAT book??
• I have too many books.
• What the fuck is that?
• IS IT MOVING?
• I think I may have packed myself into a corner...
• But WHY can't I take my bed with me? I love it so!
• I need a motivational soundtrack
• SOMEONE BRING ME BOOZE
• Maybe if I just lay down for five minutes...
• SHIT, have run out of plastic bags to wrap things with!
• Batman mask-storage or new bedroom? New bedroom. Obviously.
• I have so many half finished moisturisers
• Maybe I should combine them into one super moisturiser!
• No. Now is not the time for inventions. 
• Oh shit. What clothes do I need...
• Do I need clothes? Can I not just have a naked week?
• I feel Vicki may not be too delighted to have a naked housemate, even just for a week.
• WHAT IS LIFE EVEN?
• Stay cool De'Ath, stay cool.
• No but seriously, I'm going to throw away all of this stuff
• All I will keep is a white kaftan and some sandals, I'll be like a little ginger buddah
• I need to buy a white kaftan
• Although it does get a bit cold in the winter, so a jumper too
• And boots, for when it rains
• And...oh bugger it, I'll just bring it all 
• Is that a fake eyelash? 
• NO IT'S A FUCKING SPIDER OH MY FUCK KILL IT KILL IT
• Oh, no wait...just a broken make up brush
• I have so much hoovering to do
• I hate hoovering
• I THOUGHT I HAD PACKED ALL MY STUFF HOW IS THERE STILL MORE STUFF

And then somehow, after a day of packing crates into a van, moving a kingsize mattress on my own and using powertools-I managed to trap my finger in a car door. So I am now cleaning my empty flat with a bruised and bleeding pointer. This is what you call skilfully clumsy.

Well Reader, I'm off to try and rid my flat of the spider squatters who have decided to take over our contact before we've even left!

Ash

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