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Wednesday, January 18, 2012

oh ship

Four months.  Three major holidays.  And waaaayyyyy too long.  Is exactly how long it took our shipping container to get from Los Angeles to Auckland when we moved out here.  We had nothing while we waited.  And there are only so many toys you can make with a paper towel carcass.  Most of them are guns.  All of them weapons.  

But this time around things are different.  Eight days ago all of our stuff was wrapped and packed and carted off by two Kiwis with muscles.  I expected it would be a long time before I saw any of our belongings again.  If ever.  Ships crash, containers sink, pirates pirate.  Happens all the time out here.  But apparently not this time.  Guess what arrived in Sydney today?  Our shipping container!  In eight days.  Crown movers are nothing if not inconsistent.  And muscular.  

The boys and I are not muscular.  And we move in nine days.

So the house hunt has now been upgraded to a full-blown freak out.  We have to live somewhere because we can't live nowhere.  We have far too much stuff and children for nowhere.   So that's where we are.  Actively avoiding nowhere.

And aging. 

After two stressful moves, I have proof.  This is when the wrinkles happen.  During the sleepless sleeps.  Between the brows.  The scowl that was never invited and refuses to leave.  It all makes me want to put a paper towel gun to the head.  Full of muscle-paralyzing botulism.

The good news is, the toxic poison would show my unwanted guest to the door and off my face and I would look five years or months or minutes younger.  The bad news is, poison is toxic and I was just redundant up there.

*Two hours after I posted this post my husband got us housing.  In a really tall building.  With multiple floors.  And elevators that I pray don't rip me or my children in half.  And what about the Sydney Opera House you ask?  We have a full frontal of that place.  

The castle gun.


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