“Maybe, Dad, “I replied, “but while I’ve got the energy to do it, I have to get the flat straight. Once I start proceeding with breaking the tenancy agreement and all that stuff, they’ll be in here looking around.
“Also, I want to get everything thrown away that I can throw away now. When it happens, it might happen so quickly, I don’t have time, let alone my health and energy, to do it in a rush.”
He saw my point of view.
As a consequence since last Tuesday I’ve been armed with a positive resolve to be ruthless with my possessions and as a result have been up to my eyes in dust, mould cleaner and bin bags.
Today I’ve been up and down and up and down, and then on the sofa resting, then up a ladder to fill in some small holes and paint over them that was caused by me banging nails in to hang pictures.
They’ve gone too.
Pacing – the only way to move home with ME
I’ve had to do everything as per pacing rules. I.e. I don’t do everything at once, I have regular breaks and I take it slow. With ME there’s only one way TO take things, and that’s slow. This move might happen at the end of summer, but it’ll take me until then to get everything sorted.
Now my home is reforming around me and I’m stretched out on my sofa in a very clean, organised and comparatively empty room. The sensation of encroaching new beginnings is exciting.
I haven’t heard from Julie today as she promised though.
I tell myself that I’m sure she’ll be in touch when there’s something to tell me. Maybe she’s working away in the background, maybe something came up in the office, after all that happens.
Maybe she can’t do anything yet for some reason. Maybe she’s waiting to hear back from other people.
“I told you she sounded too good to be true,” says my inner voice. “Be quiet!” I tell it. “Trust her. Let the worry go! Be patient!!”
In the wait until Julie gets in touch, I’m sorting out the bit I do have control over – my possessions and me.
© Lindy 2015