I’m stuck on 15, and I feel the need to use any excuse possible to hold off packing.

I don’t know if it’s the chicken or the egg, but my mood in the past couple of days doesn’t help. Feeling unwanted, unattractive and generally down, with nothing capable of cheering me up. I tried to look for a sad movie that will help me release all the tension that has been building up, but there are too many channels with nothing on.

I guess I better just get on with packing.

Tomorrow morning my line will be disconnected. My internet addiction will be resumed on the other side of the move.

14 boxes done, many more to go.

That’s it – the papers have been signed and dates have been set. I am moving to a new flat next week!

Now the hard work begins – packing, cleaning, making sure the cats remain calm and getting everything sorted.

It is not by chance that I have not updated here for a while. It is not because nothing is happening in my life, or that I am too bored. It is because I have been numbed by panic in the past few weeks.

The notification of my evacuation from my home was accompanied by an attempted break-in the night before. It would have made top news here, if it wasn’t for my landlady’s sparking of a bigger flame. One of my greatest fears is of invasion. The thought of some stranger forcing his way into my home, going through my things, and possibly taking some which will have a sentimental value or will be hard to replace. Luckily, that night the invader made enough noise to wake up the guard cats, who in turn woke me up. He probably ran away when he saw the light come up, as I was checking what it is the cats wanted. A week later, my next door neighbour’s house was broken into, probably by the same person who failed to break into mine. Since then, more windows have been locked here at night, and I can only hope they do not try it again.

Another one of my fears, if the need to move house. I hate looking at flats, not being able to know for sure if this would be my future home, not knowing what the landlord would be like, or if there will be any unexpected discomforts. If the place is still populated, there is also unease in invading into the tenants’ home and looking through their most private rooms. Then, once a place is found, there is packing, which always ends up being much more work than initially anticipated, especially with the cats around, feeling the winds of change and raging into hysterics. Moving itself is not too bad, except that there is always at least one item that cannot fit in. Before, it was my washing machine a couple of time, and in this flat, the kitchen door had to be taken apart to allow the fridge into its place. Getting the cats settled in a new home is never easy, though I do like putting things into place.

So, the panic has shut me down completely. For the first week I couldn’t do a thing, I hardly got out of bed, and I definitely couldn’t go to the gym or take good care of myself. I did shake myself out of it, but the combination of the fear of invasion, and the need to move still keep me awake at night. I need to get this behind me. I need some sleep.