My sweetie and I are moving this week, and the joyous rollercoaster ride known as NYC real estate searching has swallowed up just about every moment of my spare time for the last few weeks.
I’ve been using the British-ism “Moving House” to describe it – I love the image of one of those wide load trucks with a house on the back of it trundling the two of us, our stressed out cats and all of our worldly possessions across the Brooklyn bridge and into the West Village.
Of course in real life, we’re moving into a space the two of us can afford in lower Manhattan – our new digs will be “cute” as in “miniature,” and good practice for our fantasy retirement plans of criss-crossing the country in an Airstream trailer. We’ve been sorting our possessions into heaps labelled “store,” “goodwill” and “move,” and I’m suprised how good it feels to do such a major purge. I’ve been calling it “stuff-mageddon” – anything I don’t think I’ll need for the next year gets tossed, donated, stored, or given to someone who will actually use it. If stuff-mageddon is here, can stash-mageddon be far behind? Stay tuned, gentle readers, for a major de-stash!