On The Perils Of Moving

Wow, moving and home removals are hard graft. Even before I’ve looked at properly boxing things up I feel like I’m going mad.

There’s a gradually growing pile of boxes in the corner of my lounge, a notebook filling with letting agent phone numbers, fees and requirements. There’s an even longer list of people that I need to notify of my fast approaching move. Electric company, phone company, internet provider, bank, credit card company. Am I missing anyone? I have a sneaky feeling I’ve forgotten everything.

Then there’s the sensible things to consider: I’m going to need to find a new doctor and dentist – like the NHS didn’t make that hard enough to begin with. Familiarise myself with new roads and supermarkets.

Oh, I’ll need to change my car insurance and registration. And my driver’s license. This list is going to get bigger faster than the box pile.

With the temptation to pull my hair out over this growing already I can pretty much guarantee that I won’t be doing the move myself this time. Every time I’ve done it in the past I’ve said “next time I’m getting the professionals to do it” and as lives become more serious and the moves that go with them just as much, I can’t imagine not finding some removal services to take the stress out of it for me.

Having spent the last week waking up in the middle of the night worrying about what I may be forgetting, the last thing I want to do right now is load then unload a housefull of boxes on a van.


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