Moving house tips: Mel Buttle shares the one thing you shouldn’t skimp on

Think you can save money on removalists by doing some of the ‘small things’ on your own? Think again.

Moving house in January is one of the worst ideas I’ve ever had, and this is coming from someone who, on a high school career’s questionnaire, wrote as a career goal that I wanted to take over from the AAMI insurance lady on the ads.

To draw on a yoga metaphor, it’s not just a move in January, it’s a Bikram move. I tried to do it the cheapskate way.

“I’m going to do a few trips in the car and take the small things,” I said to anyone who’d listen.

Can I strongly suggest that this is a shocking idea. From my rudimentary calculations, each round trip has travel and unpacking time, which works out to be almost an hour or more to get a few piles of clothes, a box or two and the bean bag into the new house.

Leave moving to the removalists.

The smug feeling of saving a few bucks on removalists was quickly squashed when the rivulets of sweat down my back got a run up and somehow made it down into my socks.

You’ve got to be cutthroat when you move house – if you don’t have the toughness to throw out that wobbly, asymmetric, resin bowl you got from the girls at uni for your 21st now, when will you?

I’m no Marie Kondo, but if you haven’t used it, you don’t like it, it’s in a cupboard and not the bin purely out of guilt, maybe it’s time to say goodbye.

If you find yourself hoping the bowl breaks in the car on the way to the new house, just cut out the middle man and give it away on Facebook Marketplace.

You’ll be so distracted by the 134 messages about the giveaway bowl, that any sense of guilt will fade from your mind.

be too busy replying to people about the dimensions of the giveaway bowl, sending up-close pics of any marks and, of course, trying to get the planets to align to find a time when they can come and collect it.

Chatty neighbours?

Once you’re in the new place, that’s when the real work begins. You’ve got to learn a whole new house. Which light switches are for the kitchen, how many steps to the toilet in the dark, and cracking the perfect temperature and pressure in the shower is a top priority.

Are the neighbours chatty, are they happy for a little wave and a hello at the mailbox, or will we just pretend each other doesn’t exist until one of us dies?

You’ve got to calculate these details while not being distracted by the things you’re unpacking. I’m not saying don’t go for a walk down memory lane, but maybe a jog might get you moved in quicker.

Let me cut to the core of your power walk into the past. Yes, I can’t believe you wore that in 1992 either. Indeed, back then when you thought you were overweight, you actually looked great, didn’t you? And, no, your time on the hockey field is done, don’t look into local clubs with over 40s’ teams, training will clash with Survivor. You’re welcome, now you can just shove your memory boxes on top of the wardrobe and enjoy an efficient house move.

One of the mamy cardboard boxes you will find it hard to get rid of.

House moves are characterised by the stages of your desire for cardboard. Pre-move you’re desperate for boxes, you’ll stalk around the back of fruit shops hoping to grab a few freebies. Post-move, you’re swimming in cardboard, your new focus is getting rid off it all. Can you burn it? Can you give it away? Does anyone with kids want a box the size of a Suzuki Swift so they can make a rocket ship? Pick up only, no time wasters. Every bin night, you’re there with a pocket knife mushing bits of the massive box the couch came in, into what now seems like a thimble-sized recycling bin.

I am never moving again, not from this house and not from this couch. I’m stuck here by a chemical reaction between the back of my thighs and this new couch I’m breaking in.