Moving house. Stressful with a capital 's'. Gilly, Ali and I had a conversation about blogging about 'moving day[s]'; Ali and I came up with lots of disjointed sentences strung together. I think that writing in that way sums it up. I had to work, meaning I only had the evenings to actually do anything - making it harder since usually evenings are devoted to the World Cup. Stuff went missing, stuff turned up hours later, some stuff still hasn't turned up. It is weird in a house with two proper bathrooms. It is exactly ten steps between mine and Gilly's room; I know this because I checked during one of my 'argh, it's too overwhelming, I need tea' moments. I slammed my door in frustration and stress and then Gilly couldn't get in to bring me tea because the catch wasn't on. There have been 'I hate this house' moments and there have been 'I love this house' moments. I miss Lucy because I can't cope not being joined at the hip. Ali has had to look after me - she even cooked dinner yesterday. We've had to learn how to use the dishwasher and the washing machine that is different to the one we had last year. I still have issues opening the front door.
The majority of stuff is now unpacked. And today the nice Telewest people brought us internet, phone and digital tv I don't know how to work.