Moving Schmoozing

Once again, it is that time of the year, where university students across the country are trying desperately to make the most of their limited internet before they move house. Well, those university students who aren’t lucky enough to be off on exciting adventures, or even just at home for the time being!

I am not one such soul. I have decided to stay at university until I absolutely have to. Therefore, I have another year to go! I successfully passed my degree, and not even just successfully passed: imagine my absolute shock, joy and sheer goddam relief when I saw that I have achieved a FIRST! I passed my degree with the top grade as well as being a member of two committees and a team! Goodness! And as a result, I have met the criteria for my offer for an MA in English Language and Applied Linguistics! I am so excited.

Presently, however, the exciting prospect of more learning (And I promise there is no sarcasm present in my inner voice right now) is not until September. The excitement rocking round at the movement is the Annual Student Migration. That is, university accommodation contracts end, and new ones start. Those of us switching between student let houses, have one more night in our homes of exactly one year, and then we will be hop skipping and jumping to our new place.

I am extremely excited now. All my stuff (and believe me, there is a lot of it. I never realised how much I could hoard in a year until packing rolled around again!) is packaged up, and waiting for the moving van (and stronger men than I – I have a lot of books), my house is spick and span (it should be, we spent all day cleaning) and my housemates and I have been pranking each other with the cardboard cutout of Benedict Cumberbatch all day. He is currently smirking at my housemates door, and I am looking forward to seeing where she puts it next (I bet she will try and put it up in my room without waking me. We shall see in the morning). It has been a heavy-lifting, skirting cleaning, windows wide open kind of day. When I move, I am leaving two housemates behind and taking one with me for our postgraduate shenanigans. One moved out a few days ago, and the emotional farewells were said then. Today, the final three went for lunch, and we chatted and gossiped and made jokes about hoarding tendancies and had a competition to see which of the three of us had the most stuff to cart (I totally won) (I shouldn’t be proud of that).

When I was a kid, moving was stressful, but we had it down to a fine art. The amount of rubbish we found from my younger sister after we had moved – I think she literally emptied drawers into boxes without throwing any of the sweet wrappers and scraps of paper away. She is a lot better now. Thankfully. But, moving was a military operation. it needed to be! Nowadays, despite my exponential increase in possessions, not helped by my love of actual physical books, moving is pretty chilled out. In fact, right up until the moment where the agency knock on the door for final inspection, I’ll be sitting back and thinking nah, I’ve got ages yet! And so, I have been packing in increments for weeks now. Its all fine. Nothing else needs to be done.

The stressful bit, for me anyway, will be getting to the new house, resigning myself to the fact it will probably need cleaning again, then calling up all the bill people and organising all that while my housemate heaves our boxes in. Funnily enough, I’m focusing on the positive aspects. Like, our kitchen is big enough to dance in. We fully intend to. And, I can have a six shelf bookshelf again! This is genuinely so exciting. I’ve had three shelves this year, and I have taken to just piling up books wherever there is a relatively stable surface instead! But, in a few days, I will have six whole shelves! And, in all likelihood, piles wherever there is a relatively stable surface.

So, I am a little anxious that I have forgotten something, but mostly, this move has been really quite fun. My friends and I are aware that this is the last time we will be sharing a roof, and I swear, Cardboard Benedict has never been so busy! The issue of the day has been whether we are taking Cardbatch with us, or if we leave him in an inopportune place to prank the new tenants, with a note around his neck telling them to have as much fun as we have this year. I’m all for passing the legacy on, the others are a little more worried he will get lonely, and that the new tenants won’t love him as we have. It’s been incredibly hard, saying goodbye to this cardboard cutout.

I could do a ranty, politcsy post about the EU referendum result, or the political disintegration of the left, or offer my opinion on how much of an idiot Nigel Farage is, but I am waiting. I am waiting for all the facts, and I am waiting to ensure that my argument is fully supported and logical and in line with my political views. Writing a rant will not get you anywhere. So, for now, I am focussing on my move. Then, the Labour Party.

Happy Almost Moving Day!


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