The Fuss About Moving

I moved to Sharjah to be near work. Wanting my own room was a minor factor albeit what I got was a partition. It’s also cheaper to rent in Sharjah considering it is adjacent to pricey Dubai. Of course, I miss my room mates. They are my adopted sisters in Dubai. We got along superbly that there grew a bond among us. Like sisters, we shared whatever we have, even secrets.

I should’ve been happier since I got my own space and I have privacy but just less than four months and I moved again. I was feeling lonely in that room. The landlord won’t replace the washing machine that keeps breaking down. The airconditioner in my room is also in the same state as the washing machine. There were a lot of cockroaches despite the pesticide applied just before I moved in. I had nothing in common with the other girls living in the apartment. The room failed to become the haven I sought it to be.

So, I moved in with my friend and former room mate when she moved to Sharjah. She found a perfect room in an apartment and we immediately got comfortable and settled after a month. Soon after, our friend and former room mate joined us. It felt like a reunion with my sisters. Then the nagging issue about the centralized airconditioner came up that became the reason for our eviction.

We found a room just two buildings away from where we were staying. By stroke of miscommunication, the truck we booked got cancelled on the day of our move. We ended up lugging stuff to and fro the new apartment under the hot Middle East sun. Bless my boyfriend and his SUV for rescuing us for the stuff we definitely couldn’t carry.

It has been almost three months now since we last moved and we’re still there. So far, there are no issues to speak of, no witches and bitches to occupy our chat sessions, and everything in the apartment works as they should. Looks like we’ll be staying for a long time.

It’s full of hassle to move around especially when possessions accummulate. When I arrived last year, I only had a hand-carry and a jumbo cargo box. The first time I moved, I carried with me the jumbo cargo box plus three suitcases and some eight extra-large shopping bags. In my next move, I had all those plus a rice cooker, a steam iron, a mattress, and a portable clothesline.

As I said in my previous blog, moving is okay if it means moving forward. The ultimate goal while working here is to preserve sanity and self-respect, and live decently. Never mind all that fuss.