Whoa. That was intense.

Sorry, having a Keanu moment there.

I am back. I'm a little worse for wear, but I am back.

Let's see, what has happened since my last pitiful little blog entry?

Wednesday and Thursday were a horrible blur of delivering draft documentation to a client and preparing and delivering a day-long presentation to a room full of people. A presentation I had not written and knew little, if anything about. Well, the documents were delivered and the presentation... well, I got rave reviews for my delivery, but the material is just shite. And I only have a day scheduled to rework it before I deliver it again to a bigger roomful of people in Las Vegas the following week.

Eeep.

Friday was just me head down, tail up, working like there was no tomorrow. I had a gigantic e-commerce website to document for developers that had to be complete by today and only two hands to type with.

Saturday.

Oh yes. Saturday.

Saturday almost failed to have a single redeeming feature.

I don't know about anyone else, but I HATE house hunting. I hate showing up at a real estate agent to find that the property I want to look at has been leased, or someone else has the key already or you have to make an appointment to inspect it during working hours. (Hello, why do you think they call them WORKING hours? You think I'd be looking on a Saturday if I didn't work?)

And if you do get hold of the keys, it looks less like the photo and more like the cubby you tried to build in the backyard with blankets and dining room chairs.

And if you tried to fit your washing machine in the bathroom (where the laundry taps are located) then you couldn't get out of the shower and your knees would be mooshed up against the machine while you go to the loo.

Or 'freshly painted' means that someone has smeared eyeball-tearing aqua across the walls in a vain attempt to hide the rising damp.

Or 'period decorating' means 70s.

House hunting is depressing.

So try it in the rain. With a brother who is separating from his partner of two years. And an aunt who keeps harping on that you'll NEVER find something that you want in this area for the price you can afford.

Justifiable homicide, your honour.

But Saturday did have one redeeming feature. One apartment that only needed a glance in the bathroom, kitchen and lounge before I was asking for an application form. Minutes before a happy couple asked for a form too...

Sunday: Spent almost entirely on my knees praying to the deities of real estate.

Monday: A public holiday. A day of rest? Not a chance. I was at work.

Tuesday: Work, work, work. 12 solid hours of typing. And one phone call.

"Hi, this is Kylie from the real estate agent. Do you have any pets?"
"No."
"Then it's yours."

YES! Calloo, callay! Frabjoyous fucking day!

Wednesday: Work, work, work. Blue screen of death after blue screen of death. I hate computers. Handing over VAST sums of money for rent and bond and other archaic real estate rituals.

Today: Disconnect electricity, gas, water and phone from my old place. Reconnect electricity, gas, water and phone to new place. Scratch that. Previous tenants haven't disconnected the phone. I can't be connected until they are disconnected. Grr.

Ring previous real estate agent to get most of my rent back. VeryModern was an inspiration to me in dealing with them. They didn't stand a chance.

Organise mail to be redirected.

Hire two brawny men and a truck. And then hire removalists. [grin]

Beg for boxes to put stuff in.

Blog.

So here I am.

Between now and Saturday, I need to pack my life into boxes, move and contact everyone I know to let them know they won't find me where they used to find me.

And after that, I think I might sit down and have a nice cup of tea.