Glammies, I am still alive. Just. Two weeks after the amazing Hawaiian vacance (miss you Hawaii), our house that we had nestled into quite comfortably; within 6 months filling all of the 3 bedrooms, acquiring the crazy yet loveable Romanian in the granny-flat (how I will miss her accent – never quite mastered it), was SOLD! Yup, because the Sydney property market is on the climb, it seems that every property owning kid on the block now wants a piece of the pie.
Chez Neutral Bay was no palace, but what it lacked in finishes, it made up for in views, size and definitely vibe. Champagne on the rooftop soon became a near weekly tradition. We may have gone through 4 cases of champagne in 5 months but who’s counting? It was many fun times with friends. But alas, as we didn’t have the dosh to buy it, we were given 30 days to clear off! (How I would love to have a sneaky 1.5 million dollars so I too can buy a 3-bedroom fixer upper in the lower North Shore with no parking. If only Sydney!)
Fortunately, despite the fluffy children (they’re not Rottweilers people) we were accepted into quite the swish place in Milson’s Point – with air con! Thankfully, as the Pomeranian wasn’t coping – I mean you try wearing a shaggy fur coat in 30-degree heat and see how you fare.
So, it’s been back to eating Nutella out of a jar, washed down with red wine as I face the daunting task of packing! What is it about packing that is so absolutely gut-wrenchingly awful? Surely, it’s just putting the crap you own in boxes and bags? Or is it?
After a week of drifting through the house, drink in hand; mumbling about how much packing there was, my sister and friend came over to get the ball rolling. This certainly highlighted the fact that I should really be a CEO of a large company due to my delegating skills – they packed, I made food (read: removed packaging and placed in oven), played appropriate music (Nile Rodgers Chic) and provided light entertainment while also directing what and how they packed. It worked a treat!
So now just days away from the move I feel, quite possibly, relaxed about the whole ordeal. I could be on the verge of being institutionalized due to my insanity, OR, maybe it is just our time to move on. Maybe this is right.