Flexible, Perplexible Me

Oh, Life, you surprising thing you. Just when I thought we'd decided on the next step:
Move bayside

Get dog...
...You pull one of your famous stunts and we find ourselves with a rather different outcome:
Moving 7 doors down the road

Got cat

Moving down the road seems horribly unadventurous; just a bit too easy. Maybe emigrating took it all out of us and we'll have to move seven doors at a time from now on. But I find myself wondering how on earth we're going to do it - practically, I mean. We can't really load it all into a removals van, drive for approximately four seconds, and then unload it all. Surely.

I could nick a trolley from Coles and move us bit by bit. Reckon I'd have us out of here and into there in roughly 97 round trips.

There's no one more surprised that we're sticking in this area than me. Except maybe The Australian, who said this morning that he never would have imagined in a million years - judging by my determination a few weeks ago to try somewhere new - that we'd stay. "Yeah, well, like I keep telling you, I'm very flexible." He laughed, long and loud. I can't think why.

He's only getting away with the derisive laughter because of the surprise he brought home yesterday. I received a text while he was at a meeting: Do you want a cat? I replied: What?? He texted: He's so nice. I replied: Call me. Half an hour later, no phone call, and he's on the doorstep with a sheepish grin and "Shadow", a 10-month old Tonkinese whose favourite position is to lie between me and my laptop, demanding attention. 'The dog ate my homework' should now be altered thus: 'the cat fell asleep on the delete button'.

I leave you with the wonderfully talented Tim Minchin, whose song Inflatable You inspired today's blog post title.