Saturday was moving day. You would think that it would easy enough as all I had to do was bring myself and my clothes but that proved way more difficult than it should have been. Please note that it had nothing to do with the fact that I was trying to function on no sleep and everything to do with the fact that I was hauling around my UK Rugby boy’s bag. The big question is why the hell did I have this bag that was weighed as much as me and could have easily contained a dead baby. All I agreed to do was hold onto his interview clothes and somehow I found myself dragging around the heaviest dead baby bag in the world. In a fit of anger, I may have told everyone at the hostel that I planned to put on his Gucci shirt and new pin stripped suit and spend the rest of the day chilling in the sauna until his clothes took on a nice funk. Whether or not I went through with my threat is another story.
I’m glad to report that my annoyance with the dead baby bag ended when we walked out of the elevator of our new building with keys ready to open the doors of our flat. I couldn’t wait to finally unpack and settle in but most importantly, I got to shower and wash the hostel grime off of me. I claimed the bedroom next to the bathroom and my twin from another mother (previously referenced as gutter slut in this blog) helped me make my bed. As this was a rather exhausting ordeal, we fell right into bed after it was made only to look up and notice that my bedroom practices safe fires. After giggling like little school girls, we quickly decided that I would have no other choice but to leave it up as it was the only flare that could be found in my room.
The rest of the move went rather smoothly and was pretty much uneventful as more time was spent napping then unpacking. The unpacking was something that I could easily procrastinate on as it didn’t make sense to start until I had a dresser. The lack of a dresser issue had a trip to the Warehouse (NZ‘s version of Walmart) in my near future to see what I could pick up on the cheap. Luckily, I managed to score a plastic black 4 drawer dresser for just $56. Sadly, I also picked up a ton of other odds and ends which would make this flat a home that would add up to $200 and essentially cancel out my cheap find.
It’s now been a couple of days since I’ve moved into my flat and I can’t stress enough how important it is to do it quickly and aggressively. Living out of a hostel is one of those things that slowly eats away at your soul and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Also, there is something about getting myself settled in a flat that makes me feel less like a tourist and more like the honorary kiwi that I came here to be.