We’re moving house tomorrow. That feels like such a surreal statement, especially considering I don’t think I’m even remotely ready, despite the fact that everything is in boxes and people will be turning up tomorrow morning to pack it into a truck for us.
This time tomorrow, whenever I see this view in the mirror, I’ll know it means we’re heading away from our home by the mountains and not towards a home in the suburbs.
We’re going to be living in a place where the only non-pedestrian traffic light is fifteen minutes away. We’re going to have a phone number that starts with a 5 instead of a 9 – that’s proper country. We’ll have a view of a mountain from the back door and a view of a mountain from the giant front window.
This time tomorrow, we’ll see what our cats make of it all.
Although, really, this time tomorrow we’ll probably be passed out on the floor, wishing this whole moving house business had never been invented in the first place.
So I’m definitely not ready to move but I am definitely ready for tomorrow to be over. Wish us luck!