moving weekend

At the time of writing this I am sitting on the floor of my bedroom in London; pretty much in the centre. The half in front of me is completely vacant apart from the laptop power cord that runs from the wall socket to my lap. The half behind me is a complete jumble of mess, piled all over my bed and surrounding floor space. I'm not sure when my bed will reappear to welcome me under the duvet. (Doona in my Aussie lingo.) Right now I'm waiting. It's all I can do at present.

You see, it's moving weekend here in my London house. The family I work for (and live with) have decided to renovate the ground floor of their four floor skinny townhouse. The builders step in to wreak organised havoc on Monday morning. The result will be great with a brand new kitchen mixed in with the dining area and a new proper playroom for the boy and his coming sibling. But with the kitchen and play area in absolute chaos, it's really just easier for us to move out while it's being done. So all of us--dad, mum, boy, dog and I--are off, essentially around the corner, to my boss' parents' huge six floor London home. It will be an interesting six weeks for sure but at least one of the floors is practically a self-contained flat. I have a room and bathroom and toilet access one floor down.

So I'm in the middle of packing; trying to decide what I'll need for the next six weeks plus what I need for my Iceland holiday next week. I will be able to get back into my house but it's a bit more complicated with the builders taping the stairway with plastic to stop dust getting comfortable on the undisturbed floors. In the middle of all this there's a reshuffling of rooms. Since most of the first floor is being packed away into storage tomorrow, the parents are reorganising the study space; sorting what furniture will go into storage along with the first floor lot. The study is being turned into the coming baby's room and the sitting room is shuffling to include a study space for the parents. Today I've cleared the shelves and desk in my room and carted them downstairs as I'm trading for the dad's desk and shelves. They're being unpacked ready for moving into my room as I type.

Here I wait; not even sure if the furniture will make it to my room tonight. Hoping though. My room is such a mess. But to clear it up I'd like to organise myself onto these welcome pieces which will work much more satisfactorily than the previous ones. Then things will be clearer about what to take and what to leave here.

*Sigh* Ten months ago I came with 17kgs in my bag--plus carry-on, laptop and handbag. At least most of my accumulation is useful and appreciated and enjoyed.