Clipboards and labels and markers, Oh My!

Well, Operation Masking Tape ( hereafter known as OMT ) is well under way. I have started trying to find information on how to have a successful move and have come up a bit short - obviously Americans spend a great deal of time moving from one side of the country to another but never move within their own hometown. All the advice seems to be based on how not to be ripped off by your moving company. Seeing as Darius and I are moving ourselves this is not so helpful. I even tried Amazon to find a good book, but what books there were all had such terrible reviews so I figured I would need a new plan.

It occurs to me that perhaps I am being a little hasty with my expectations. I mean, there are some skills I need before pulling off the grand OMT, namely:
1) I need some sense of organisation.
2) I need to be stronger in order to make box carrying look effortless.
3) I need some new stuff.

Item three on the above list fills me with joy! Thoreau once said "Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes." I could not disagree more. I love gear. If something I need to do requires new clothes I'm all for it. Even better if it requires other specialist equipment ...I loved the beginning of every school year when I got to kit myself out in new uniforms, new stationary, new sports stuff. The only reason I want to have a child is so that I can buy strollers, bottles, bibs, diapers etc. Babies require so much stuff it's like a dream come true...however, unlike most of you reading this, I have some sense, and would never have children in order to shop...well, not yet anyway.

The stuff I'm referring to is of course markers, labels, boxes, newspaper and the clipboard. No organised event has ever occurred without the judicious use of clipboards. I hope I can find some bubble wrap too. I love bubble wrap - it's an inner child thing. I also need a moving day outfit. Combat pants seem appropriate, but I don't know where to find any since everything in stores turned pink. Oh well, I suppose I shouldn't buy anything until I have a plan so on to something else...

So I thought I would tackle item 1 first...no point in getting all sweaty this early in the game. I went to my local library ( a favourite hangout ) and picked up Julie Morgenstern's 'Organizing from the Inside Out.' ( I'll never understand Americans' obsession with the letter 'z' ) I'll let you know how it goes.

As for item 2...well, luckily I have a bit of a head start in this department. About 3 months ago Darius and I finally joined a gym. This was rather a shock to my system as I haven't done anything even remotely athletic since high school ( I'm 25 now if that helps you ). I got on a treadmill on my first day and nearly went straight off the back. I tried the weight machines and had to take the pin out in order to lift it. It was not a good day. I felt like a lump.

Our gym has a equipment system with green spots on the weights for beginners, yellow for intermediate and red for expert. I'm mostly on yellow now, one or two reds except for my upper body which is still firmly in the green - this does not bode well for the fitness component of OMT. My fitness programme consists of 20 mins on the treadmill where I walk for 14 mins and run for 6. I've been slowly increasing my run time ( could barely make a minute when I started ), a couple of circuits a week and a yoga class on Tuesday evenings. This has been working wonders, all my friends say I've lost weight ( I haven't..I've put on 2kg, worse luck ).

It seems that at this rate I will not be able to lift the boxes at all. I will have to step the plan up a bit. Getting fit is such an enormous undertaking that I have decided to institute a mission for that all on it's own. I will call it Operation Bench Press.

Admission of Guilt

I am domestically challenged.
It has taken me years to finally admit that, so I appreciate your support.

It is truly an embarrassment to my family. The women of my family are all domestic goddesses, the type who cook up a delicious and nutritious 3 course meal each night without letting so much as a hair get out of place. They produce Christmas dinner without breaking a sweat ( or a dish ), have tastefully decorated homes, manicured gardens and beautiful home-made wardrobes. My grandmother was a Housecraft teacher for crying out loud.

I hate them all.

I, on the other hand, am a total geek. I have far more interesting and intellectually challenging things to do than play 'Brady Bunch'. I think pizza is a well balanced diet ( it has all the food groups, right? ). I only clean floors when walking barefoot hurts. I don't even own an ironing board.

Nobody has ever thought any less of me due to my complete lack of housekeeping skill. I fear this might be due to the fact that until now, I have only lived with men. My previous homes after moving out of my mother's home are as follows: a group house with me and 6 pizza delivery guys, my boyfriend and two male flatmates and my boyfriend and two ( different ) male flatmates. Men are forgiving when it comes to cleaning and think you are a godsend if you can sew on a button ( the only skill I have kept from my days as a Brownie - aged 7 ). They have all been very understanding and, generally, far too interested in what was on TV to bother about things like grime and dust.

All this is about to change. As of the beginning of August, Darius and I will be moving in with another couple, and that means another woman. This is not good. Other women know that dust is not a protective coating for furniture. They also know how to boil an egg without setting off smoke alarms. Something will have to be done. I am concerned that the loving man in my life will not be quite so loving after finding out what simple pleasures ( clean sheets and ironed shirts etc. ) he has been denied all these years.

So here is my plan - if those silly women in washing powder adverts can do it, so can I. I will become a proud, feather duster carrying member of suburbia. I will, cook, clean, sew and possibly ( if we can find a place with a garden ) even grow my own veggies. I will thus establish my rightful place as the greatest girlfriend ever and stave off impending disaster.

Well, my first step to domestic bliss is to have a perfectly packed and ordered moving day. Problem: I'm no good at moving and am not the world's most organised person. My last move ended up in a relay between two flats only about a block apart during which we used 4 duffel bags to transport all our goods by filling them one end, walking down the road and emptying the contents on the floor of the new place. Not the most well thought out moving day I have to admit. We did have our reasons. We were turfed out on short notice due to the owner selling the place so we scarcely had time to find a new home, never mind pack.

Luckily I do have 2 and a half months of planning and packing time at my disposal. Plenty of time to co-ordinate one simple moving day. I hope. I will call it : Operation Masking Tape.