Moving House is sooooooooo much fun!! NOT. This is my life right now:
Walk back to apartment.
Walk around with a bucket and rag scrubbing at any marks that I spot on the walls, although at this point i'd have to say that the marks on the walls are 80% imaginary, and 20% mangled huntsman guts from when we squish them against the wall with the mop (die scum)
Lenny, did not take the move well. When he went to his new house for the next 6 months, he had what I would refer to as a 'minor breakdown'... as in: That cat has rabies and needs to be put down... he was going to kill me I swear. I had to hide behind the couch for hours whilst he swiped and hissed at me, and sleep with one eye open, lest he try to disembowel me in the night. Poor Man... I dont know what he's complaining about - he has a lovely balcony to sun himself on, and i'm going to be freezing my tits off in 5 days time. (I hear men like the nipply look, so thats one bonus) He came around luckily, and has been sleeping in my armpit everynight, getting as much love as he can before we are seperated by the oceans of time. (damn you quarantine!!! sif my cat has any diseases...except for his violent rages)
My blue couch cushions that we threw out 2 years ago have made a last ditch effort to try and come to London with us, last time they brought a picnic blanket with them which we were not intersted in, so this time they came back with a crusty old beer refrigerator... it was very thoughtful but not something I really need to pack on a move to London, so they were once again shunned in the street and disappeared. Who know what they will show up with next.
The crazy lady downstairs has been really crazy. She keeps going through our garbage that we are throwing out into the council clean up, and putting it back inside the apartment. Which would be fine, except our body corporate calls us and is all "whats with the shit outside the apartment" damn you insanity woman... she also tricked me into carrying about 10 terracotta pots around for her, but that is another story.. a story about a mental lady and her wily ways.
Well, after all that, I'm kinda ready to leave. My house is empty and it's no fun sitting around on the floor waiting for movers, cleaners, real estate peeps. For one - I have cleaned the toilet to a saintly cleanliness, so when I need to poop I have to weigh the options of pooing in a plastic bag and hanging my bum out the window.. or just dropping a duce for the final time... unfortunately the burly moving men duced me up before I had a chance and I had to scrub it back to a germ free zone.
In excellent news - Russell Brand is doing a DVD signing of his show 'Scandalous' which I saw at the Hordern earlier this year. So I am going to go along to that in my first week in London to Oxford Circus with my things to sign, and when I say things, I mean my breasts. Down with Katy Perry.
Goodbye Sydney. My next post will be in London.
Goodbye fare harbour with your amber shades of grey. My home is girt by huntsmans.