Relocation, relocation, relocation.

Long time, no type.

So, I have relocated my personage from one side of town to the other. The process of this required me to go through my belongings and decide what things I would take and what things I would leave behind. A task somewhat more involved than I had initially anticipated.

I discovered that over the 22 years of my existence, I have accumulated a lot of crap. Random bits of bric a brac that I have thought necessary enough to keep at the time- and now have sentimental value growing on them like mould in a damp cupboard, making throwing them away or leaving them behind a difficult task.

Initially, when it first came to light that I would soon be changing my locality, I had decided that my childhood toys would be staying at home. But when it came time to leave my beloved (and just a touch manky) bear/bunny that was a Christmas gift from Santa at Kindy when I was 3 or 4 behind-I just couldn't do it. This unidentifiable stuffed animal has been with me for longer than I can remember. He has always been my favourite. I couldn't just leave him, it would be cruel.

And so, a lot of the crap I had originally intended not to bring with me has ended up in boxes on the floor of my room and I have no idea where I'm going to put it.

What I do know is that this "grown up" business is quite odd. Having to draw up plans like in Kindy so that very one knows where everyone else is going to be and so that someone remembers to feed the dog. We even have named week planners on the fridge, a meal planner and a list of chores.
It's like being a child, but more expensive and worrisome.