I’m moving. That’s right, I’m actually moving from my little shoebox in the heart of Dublin 6 and I’m moving a whole southside postcode away to Dublin 8. I’m moving into a great apartment that’s way bigger than where I’ve been for the last, ahem, 7-ish years [OMG! I’ve been here 7 years?] and so I’m also moving out of Rathmines.
I’m very familiar with my new place as it’s actually where my eh, Ex used to live. Is that a bit weird? He used to live there, he has moved out! Hell, I practically lived there for months bar a few weeknights when I’d actually trundle home to my shoebox to pick up more clothes and bits and pieces. Are you thinking it’s weird that I’m moving into my Ex’s place? Oh! He’s def not there anymore, he moved out a while back into a place he owns in order to do it up and for a change of scenery. So, when I move in, it’ll be just me. And the reminders of all the time the two of us were in the apartment. Nice.
So, why am I moving in? Well, I really like the apartment and I do think I’ve been in Rathmines too long. HQ will always be there and I can go visit whenever I want. And sure the other regulars will always be there as well! And while the rent is higher than what I pay at the moment, I’m still getting this place at less than the going rate – which is too bargainicious to turn down, right? I know the area I’m moving too and as it’s city centre, I’m only 10 minutes walk from Grafton Street. I’d be stupid not to move in. Has the weirdness subsided? How about I tell you that my Ex’s Mother owns the apartment? Yeah, she does. And now that my Ex is my Ex, I’ve met his mother. She’s delighted I’m moving in as we’re getting on like a house on fire!
So between now and next week there’s a few things to do; properly clean my new place, yes, the guy left it not quite clean enough, what a shocker! I was there yesterday, oh I already have keys, and while I got over the weirdness of being back there on my own, there’s a bit of elbow grease required to have it gleaming. I need boxes, I need to throw out I’m guessing one third of my crapstuff, I need to pack, I need to be able to get into the car park with moving van, which entails a call to the management company for a key or keypad code [the ex didn’t drive], I need to activate the ESB and NTL, I need to order [but not pay for] a new fridge freezer and cooker and be there when they’re delivered, I need to coordinate couch suite swapping with my new landlady, I need to unpack and then I need to relax!
Sure nothing to it! And yes, I’ve already mentally decided where everything will go and what I need to get to put my own stamp on my new place! And I would think the Ex will be putting in an appearance at some stage, make sure I haven’t run out of milk or something…