Here is something I didn't previously know about moving overseas: if you're going to offer up your furniture on Gumtree for free, wait until the last possible minute. Otherwise you will find yourself with a week to go and no bed, no mattress, no table, and a guy up the road pestering you about when you're going to be done with your desk lamp.
Everything I posted – bed, desk, table, fridge, and microwave – was spoken for within two hours. I made $50 off the fridge. The ladies who bought it also got the bed. I let them take the bed immediately because they had travelled an hour to get here, but I said they’d have to wait till the next week for the fridge.
“It would be easier if we could take it now,” said one.
“Sorry,” I told her, “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor, but I do need to eat.”
The man who was promised the microwave also took my nice wooden breakfast table, which he paid for by copying several CDs of Spanish piano music onto my hard drive.
Pi hid in the bathroom and didn’t say a peep.
Later, she expressed her approval of our new living situation. With all this new open space she had lots of space to run around, and the removal of the fridge and piano unearthed no fewer than four lost toys. Tuesday night, as I curled up under my sheet, miserable because I’d been hit with the flu of death, Pi-kins stretched out across my chest and laid her head on my chin. Usually, I steal cat-warmth from her; she was happy to steal fever-warmth from me for a change.
I surrendered my key today. I left the place looking clean and shiny and smelling vaguely of wood, just as it did when I moved in. The last thing I got rid of was a certain document that had been sitting on the counter, waiting to be either packed or chucked. I knew I couldn't justify packing it, not when I'm weighing in at roughly twice my 30kg baggage allowance, but the thought of tossing it into some fetid recycling bin gave me real pains. In the end, I placed it gently on top of a shoebox before shutting that yellow lid. Of course I have the PDF. Still. The hard copies were what I submitted. I carried those from the printers to home to the university with as much care as a mother would carry the baby she'd just delivered after a three-year gestation.
Massive sigh. Sleep tight, little thesis.
Monday afternoon: Pi surveying the progress.
Everything I posted – bed, desk, table, fridge, and microwave – was spoken for within two hours. I made $50 off the fridge. The ladies who bought it also got the bed. I let them take the bed immediately because they had travelled an hour to get here, but I said they’d have to wait till the next week for the fridge.
“It would be easier if we could take it now,” said one.
“Sorry,” I told her, “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor, but I do need to eat.”
The man who was promised the microwave also took my nice wooden breakfast table, which he paid for by copying several CDs of Spanish piano music onto my hard drive.
Pi hid in the bathroom and didn’t say a peep.
Later, she expressed her approval of our new living situation. With all this new open space she had lots of space to run around, and the removal of the fridge and piano unearthed no fewer than four lost toys. Tuesday night, as I curled up under my sheet, miserable because I’d been hit with the flu of death, Pi-kins stretched out across my chest and laid her head on my chin. Usually, I steal cat-warmth from her; she was happy to steal fever-warmth from me for a change.
I surrendered my key today. I left the place looking clean and shiny and smelling vaguely of wood, just as it did when I moved in. The last thing I got rid of was a certain document that had been sitting on the counter, waiting to be either packed or chucked. I knew I couldn't justify packing it, not when I'm weighing in at roughly twice my 30kg baggage allowance, but the thought of tossing it into some fetid recycling bin gave me real pains. In the end, I placed it gently on top of a shoebox before shutting that yellow lid. Of course I have the PDF. Still. The hard copies were what I submitted. I carried those from the printers to home to the university with as much care as a mother would carry the baby she'd just delivered after a three-year gestation.
Massive sigh. Sleep tight, little thesis.
Monday afternoon: Pi surveying the progress.
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