Moving House or Not

Procrastination is, and always will be, my worst enemy. We’re two days away from a huge move to the western suburbs and I’m sitting here with the pizza boxes piling up (already got rid of all the plates) playing Random Hearts. It’s not really well known outside of Japan, but that’s the RPG about the plucky young boy Sorta and his quest to scurry all around the kingdom collecting people’s hearts with his good looks and enjoying their love with his talking animal companions so he can one day return to his homeland and take the crown.

It’s dark comedy, but that’s what you get when you have a game made by committee. Not enough family friendly content if you ask me.

Of course, got a meeting with the conveyancing solicitors in the morning, so I should probably turn off and go to sleep so I have a clear head. But I’ve just reached the part where Toothy is brainwashed and starts trying to fight Sorta, and Sorta is forced to run away…yeah, it doesn’t matter. When we got in touch with the conveyancing solicitors, I had the idea that they were going to do basically everything from there, leaving us to party it up until it came time to pack everything away in boxes. And while they’ve done a whole bunch of housing stuff that we couldn’t do, there’s still some minor effort involved on our part. Sharon seems to think that it’s good for us to be present while a massive part of our future is decided. Sure, whatever.

I’ll just stay up a bit longer and make sure I have a strong coffee before we meet with the conveyancers. And what’s the meeting about, anyway? No clue. We have to be there, because we just do. Sharon deals with all the documents, whereas my time will come when I have to carry all the boxes to the trailer and strap them in for transit. Wonder if any of the local conveyancers near Caulfield or thereabouts know of an additional box-moving service? I just got to level sixty, which means I can turn hearts into flowers and lob them at the people to make them love me.