I am writing these lines standing, on the phone, in the filthy kitchen, while four burly men take out all the contents of my house.
This is not a metaphor, this is not an exercise.
The worst happened.
We are moving.
On the list of things that people are most anxious about are death, loss of a spouse and moving house, not necessarily in that order.
It is not clear where on this list is "fear of losing a partner due to moving", despite the fact that this is a well-known reason for divorce.
We knew we had to move.
Our deal with the landlord was that we would pay him less than what he could get from a couple of hiatchists and in return we would never bother him with trifles like electricity, plumbing or a functioning roof, but after four winters where we sat with an umbrella in the bathroom when it rained heavily, we realized there was no way out.
Here the baby learned to walk, here the older one learned to say "there's no way", here I lost my mind in the first wave of the corona virus and came back only to lose it again in the following waves.
But in good time, we are moving to a slightly smaller and much more expensive apartment because we are two musicians and our income is secure.
Three weeks before the move I woke up sweating at 3 am and lay awake in bed with an anxiety attack.
The partner, who opened his eyes, mumbled half asleep "Why are you stressed, I'll clear the calendar three days before the move and we'll tick off all the work together."
I said ok and got up to wrap the service in newspapers.
Although I am the one who has been lying to him for 12 years that it will take me five minutes to get dressed, but when it comes to chores that bore him, he will always appreciate them in too little time.
To his credit, in most cases it really takes him very little time, mainly because by then I get angry and do it myself.
Two whole weeks that we wrap, sort, pack and clean.
How did the house get so busy?
I asked him as I put the fifth Elsa doll into the box.
And I have taught myself in recent years to let go.
For evidence, I have no idea where my golden albums are, the municipal library has already received several hundred books from me, but somehow I can't get rid of a dusty bathroom heater for NIS 89.90 after three moves.
Hi, I don't know when I might be cold in a theoretical bath.
By the way, I don't know what right men have over women who like to spend money.
Your hobbies are buying things ten times more expensive and claiming it's "for home".
No, my dear, I have no need for a 65-inch TV or eight electric guitars.
After long days of packing and eight hours before the truck arrives, the house was completely packed.
I'm not sure where we put the baby.
At the end of the day we were standing in the living room, I looked around with satisfaction and said to him, do you see?
There's nothing we can't do, if I tell you what to do and you do it.
shishabat@israelhayom.co.il
were we wrong
We will fix it!
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