On the move

I like moving.

I must like moving, because I don't like staying still. I don't like to know where I'll be living for too long. I love seeing new places and settling into new houses and meeting new people. I get sentimental about leaving – but on the whole, moving around is my thing.

But oh, how I loathe the packing. It's a special secret torture that we inflict on ourselves, and as a girl who's moved nine times in the past ten years, I can say with some authority that doing it frequently doesn't make it any easier.

So between packing and organising and cleaning and toddler-wrangling and reorganising and working and out-processing and planning (not to mention more packing) May has been a long, long, looooong month. I am not sorry to see the back of it.