The End of an Era

Moving on is ideal when there are no emotions attached. I'm currently winding up my Asia tour. I've marked the date on the calendar for a year from now (I'm confident that this is it), I've passed on all my furniture to anyone willing to take it and I've down-sized considerably. This is the part that astounds me the most. I still have enough stuff to fill a removalist truck even though I feel like I've spent more time at the garbage bins than in my house and I've fully furnished several people's homes with my stuff. 

I don't think of myself as a hoarder but I guess I must be. Actually, now that I think of it I know I am. Thinking back on conversations we've had as we're trying to discriminate between what to move up north and what to toss. 

Me: No worries, throw out that praying mantis leg, I don't use it anymore anyway. 

Ten minutes later. 

Me: Where'd you put that praying mantis leg? It will probably come in handy in the new house. 

Anyway, moving house is a nightmare. I hate it, I have no desire to do it as regularly as I have been of late, but it's time to move onto greener pastures and get out of this vortex of boredom and repetition. 

Time to mop! 

I bet Oprah has someone to mop for her! 

Ciao.