So the removal people arrived today to pack up our stuff ready to ship it off on its big, intrepid adventure at sea. I like to think I'm waving my belongings off on a fabulous cruise. And trying not to imagine my precious handbags, shoes and newly upholstered chairs in a shipping container somewhere in the Atlantic being thrown around like an episode of Deadliest Catch. I'm almost excited for them, getting to travel the world. If I wasn't just so terrified about everything going wrong. I was so stressed, I decided I needed to get proactive. I spent the whole of yesterday putting little Post It Notes marked with big, felt-tip 'X's on everything that under no circumstances should be packed with the stuff being shipped. I suddenly got the fear that the removers would whisk everything away and leave me with nothing. Not even a passport. Or Essie's favourite doll, 'Baby' or our suitcases with our clothes for the next few weeks. And most importantly, my anxiety medication. Lol. §§§
So as I flopped on the sofa late last night, surveying the little yellow squares, or as I liked to call them, 'beacons-of-order-and-calm' on everything, I felt a wonderful sense of achievement and control, for one millisecond my tired, fractious soul was soothed. 'How lovely' I thought. 'When the guys turn up first thing I'll have the whole thing cleverly labelled with Post Its and I can sit back and chill. Clever, clever, most organised, Me!' *Pat on back*
As I sat, catching my breath, swigging my well-earned rosè from the lone teacup I'd decided wasn't worth packing, I heard the most horrifying sound; a distinctive, yet gentle "flutter," followed by another and another...."flutter"... ...."flutter"...."flutter"...and then a flurry of small "thuds" as one by one ALL THE POST IT NOTES FELL OFF THEIR PRECIOUS LOADS AND DRIFTED TO THE FLOOR. I couldn't bloody believe it. Whoever invented Post It notes had clearly NEVER heard of adhesive. It's like the things have barely been glanced by a glue stick. Like the guy on glue-duty had simply thought; 'Nah, let's not bother with making them STICKY. I'll just lick 'em; it'll save millions!' BUT WHAT'S THE POINT OF A POST IT NOTE, IF YOU CAN'T....POST IT! The floor of my house is now full of NOTES, with X's on them. Fluttered far away from the objects they were labelling.
ARRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
After swigging the rest of my teacup and stifling the overwhelming urge to cry, I got a grip and rolled my sleeves up and went over them one by one STICKING each and every sodding Post It Note down with tape. I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED BY THESE LITTLE YELLOW SQUARES! An hour later I'd reapplied all the sodding things and rolled into bed, praying the tape didn't decide it hated me too.
This morning I woke up, and to my delight the taped/welded 'notes' were still in place. Hurrah! But....(and there just always seems to be a 'but' these days....) to my horror, Essie (3) had decided NOW would be the perfect time to practice her writing. "Look, Mama! I've put an 'X' on everything like you did too!" She'd found a book of Post Its and scrawled little 'X's on them and stuck them all over the living room, on things that I very much DID want to be shipped.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!..................*Cue the rumblings of my next ulcer*
So, if you're thinking of using Post Its to organise your house removals. Don't. Unless you Hot Glue Gun them to what they're supposed to stick to. Or better still take them and burn them and buy something sticky enough to withstand more than a gentle breeze. Oh, and remove all Toddlers from the vicinity.
The absolutely crazy thing is, I remember my new friend Dominique giving me one piece of advice. She'd moved overseas numerous times and so was an expert in all this. "Whatever you do, don't use Post It notes to label your stuff. They don't bloody stick." Of course I only remembered this advice afterwards. Tiredness really does f*ck with your brain.
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