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Weeknotes #464

Monday — A morning of admin, followed by an afternoon of work. Also looked up where the 39 bus stops, so we can have an alternate route home to the new place (integrating Google Maps is the best thing Dublin Bus has done in quite some time).

Reading Scott Pilgrim Vol 2 on my lunch break, I see the spot in Lee’s Palace where I was nearly bottled in the head by the drummer from …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead (p183; the stool on the far right).

Tuesday/Wednesday — Aside from getting another lift to relocate various appliances to the new place (many thanks again, Declan) I have little recollection of what I did over these two days. This worries me.

Thursday — The Big Move. And it’s much smoother than we expected. Aside from the small hiccup of some tosser parking his van in the loading bay, everything goes according to plan: the movers clear out the flat in less than half an hour, and an hour after that the whole lot is unloaded at the new place.

Later on we head out to find the supermarket. It’d be a 15-minute stroll around the corner, if it weren’t raining. And it’s open 24 hours, too. I think I could enjoy this living-in-the-suburbs thing.

Friday — Not enough sleep. Half dead at work all day, but I Get Things Done. Afterwords, to the old flat to help Bee with the final cleaning and packing of odds and ends.

Then a stressful trip to the new place: it’s Culture Night in Dublin, and the streets are thronged. I’m sure it’s a great initiative for those who are really interested (indeed, even we had free tickets to a recital at the NCH; too busy to go in the end) but the vast majority are philistines too cheap to go to the Wax Museum or whatever any other time of the year.

And they’re taking up all the space on the bus we need for our heavy bags and suitcases. Long story short – I hate child’s buggies, especially those ridiculous double ones. And I hate smart-arse parents who think they’re entitled to the space because they’re too self-important to fold the buggy and sit the kids on their laps, like they’re supposed to. When I was a child I rarely got a seat to myself on the bus! Kids today, grumble mumble.

Saturday — You know all that stuff we got moved to the new place on Thursday? Now we have to unpack it.

Plumber comes out to look at the taps on the kitchen sink. But it appears to be a job for another day. We hope that day is soon – can’t do the dishes if the hot tap doesn’t work.
Sunday — Coming down with a cold. Sniffle.

In the afternoon we go shopping for a microwave at the Blanchardstown Centre; have to carry the bugger all the way from the Argos through the centre to the bus stop on the other side, then from the bus down the road to the new place, stopping every 30 yards or so to rest my weakling arms. But hey, at least now we have a microwave.

Too tired by the time we get home to clear out the second bedroom/study; I set up my computer stuff on the dining table instead. I promise it’s a short-term situation.