March 7, 2007

• I underestimated the task of moving house, by a handful of hours. It eventually took me more than twelve hours to pack my possessions and move them to my new abode, two blocks away. It was a physically and emotionally draining task, having to leave the place I called home for the past two and a half years. However, living alone has provided a harder edge to my sentimentality and I did not have much trouble deciding what to discard.

  Boxes are rather invaluable during packing and I was glad that I had quite a few of those with me. The smaller boxes were used to hold assorted memorabilia. There was only one large box though and I used it to ferry mostly my books. When my arms got tired, the box was replaced by a sling bag. A trolley was not an option, as I had to climb a total of ten flights of stairs for each two-way trip. Not a lot I could do about lower body fatigue, thankfully not too many of my leg muscles have wasted away from my lack of exercise in recent months.

  I lost count of the number of times I had to walk to-and-fro after twenty. It was an awesome feeling upon completion, but tainted by the tinge of sadness at having to leave the room I built up over the last thirty months and never seeing it again. Worse was to follow though, for after putting my bag down, I was hit by the realisation that I had to unpack, or rather, pack all my belongings. Kinda like thinking you have crossed the finishing line, but the tape was actually masquerading as the halfway point.

  Damn it.

  • 1:12 am
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