All ahoo.

If Martin needs proof that I mean it when I say “I love you”, the fact that I spent most of the weekend packing some of my precious books in boxes and last night piling the rest of them on the bed and couch to enable the moving of the main row of shelves 24 cm out and about 50 left (having removed the corner unit) to make room for a bed that will hold us both ought to do it. It seems I’ve invited him to move in with me, and if this surprises you, dear faithful reader, aware as you must be of my professed love of solitude (with two people living in a 36 square meter space there can be little hope of solitude), your surprise can be as nothing compared with my own. There are excuses, of course. It’s immensly sensible economically – living on your own is expensive, and in Oslo it is especially so. We’ll save heaps. We’ll save time, too, what with no more travelling between his place and mine. Oh, yes, it makes sense, all right.

Fact of the matter, though, is that in a wholly irrationaly way and one which I would have claimed to be completely against my character had it not felt so natural, I want him there 24/7. There is no excuse for that, but, quite frankly, I don’t care.

So, I’ve been moving books. Quite apart from moving the shelves, room for more books will have to be made (you don’t think I’d fall in love with someone who didn’t have a few books of his own, did you?) – and so some of mine (and some of his) are going to have to go into storage. Have you ever tried sorting through your books with the question: “Will I want to (re)read this in the next X months/years?” Do you have any idea how difficult it is? Oh well, as my book collection is one of the few things in my life which is pretty much completely organised, I will know which box each book is in, and so will be able to get it out of storage reasonably easily. And in a way, this sorting through is a good thing, too, as I keep finding books that are not actually in the database (the count is therefore going up at an alarming rate – currently it’s at 2278 volumes). I also find the odd one that I know for certain I will not (re)read, and so can be confined to the pile marked “for charity”. All to the good.

I don’t even want to think about all the clutter (books not included) that I’ll have to sort through over the next few weeks in order to make the place inhabitable for two.

It’s worth it, obviously. But I’ll be glad when we’re done – for more reasons than one.

Voice in my head: Fairground Attraction – Perfect (which it is)

3 thoughts to “All ahoo.”

  1. Very clever, having a database for your books. I’m pretty boggled by the HOW of moving in his books, and other stuff, so I’m presuming you’ve found some reasonably accessible storage facility somewhere.
    Don’t dump the books you won’t be rereading just yet, either. We can be pretty certain I won’t have read them, and if you enjoyed them even just a little, I know I would, too. Right, there’s the confusing part: why would you decide for certain not to reread these books? Maybe you didn’t enjoy them? Well, there can’t be that many, anyway. I’ll find some online time in the evenings, and we’ll discuss, ok?

  2. The two that have gone by the board this weekend were in Norwegian, so I assume they’re out. Mostly, though, you can assume that if I decide I’m definitely not going to reread a book it’s probably because I didn’t much like it. I’ll have another look through the pile that’s already been put aside for charity, though, and make sure there’s nothing there you might want to lug back with you.

    Have you booked tickets yet, btw?

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