This process of moving home now ranks as the second worst in my life. Partly, that's a measure of good luck - in that things have generally varied between 'okay' and 'pretty great'. But, partly at least, it has just been rubbish.
Since mid-November, LC and I have been living surrounded by boxes of possessions that we packed believing a move was imminent. Indeed, some more boxes of stuff are being stored in our downstairs lock-up which is fine for short-term storage but really not good for anything that might be affected by cold and/or damp. Meaning that the flat that we'd been finding increasingly oppressive has become increasingly uncomfortable and inconvenient in which to live.
And, since mid-December, we've been in a position where we simply must complete the sale of the flat before we can move, and we not only don't have a date when that will be completed (even nominally), but we we don't even have a date when we'll have a date. And meanwhile our seller is also becoming increasingly frustrated with the delays (can't say I blame them... I just wish there was anything I could actually do about them).
Basically, it just sucks, and with no end in sight. I think I'm going to give it another week, and then start unpacking. Putting up the Christmas tree didn't work, but maybe this will...
#2: "Reaper's Eye", by Richard A. Knaak