I think it's widely established, at least amongst first world problems that moving house ranks pretty poorly in the list of fun things to do. So I found it yesterday, when I moved from a flat on the University campus, which I occupied as part of a second job to provide pastoral care to students in the evening, to a nearby house on campus, for the same reason. With the accumulated possessions of a forty-year-old with a lot of books, and a partner who is quite sure there is always room to fit just one more bit of furniture in, we knew we wouldn't be in for a fun day.
Thankfully, my partner, being much more organised than me, managed to arrange for a redoubtable crew of friends to come and help shift things. The result is that all our things were moved yesterday and I got up early today, aching, to spend a couple of hours cleaning the old flat. I handed the keys over, and am now at Heathrow, waiting to go to Glasgow for a meeting that I mentioned before. I'll post more about that as and when it happens over the next couple of days. For now, thanks to those who helped: Annika, Julian, Chris, Emma, Ant, Rich, Paul and Linda (and this is where I fear I've forgotten someone). The picture attached is part of the measly reward for these great friends for helping out.