This week I paid a visit to hell. I mean I moved house, but it's pretty much the same thing.
It was with enormous excitement I sat on the phone and heard my wife say "We're unconditional" and the lifelong dream of being a homeowner became a reality. But the sobering reality of an impending move came rolling in, like a storm-driven wave crashing on to Marine Parade.
Having been lucky enough to live in many different parts of New Zealand, I knew what was coming. The laws of moving home are written in stone. First, the move it or lose it filter needed to be applied.
Read more: The Hits: Time to tighten the money belt
The Hits: Novel ways to secure tickets to the next big Mission
The Hits: Weet-Bix TRYathalon in Hastings impressive on many levels
"How do we still have unpacked boxes from three moves ago and can I just throw them out?" my wife yelled from the recesses of the wardrobe. "No. They may contain my valuable… things" I replied. Both of us knowing I had no idea what was in that box, and that it probably was, indeed going to find its way to a dump.