Interminable

I've tried put it out of my head, concentrate on other matters which need doing, but to no avail. Every two minutes I must check my email, the nervous anticipation of good tidings instantly extinguished by no tidings at all. Even now, as I type, I must glance at my inbox for any new messages. But there are none.
Beds, wardrobes, writing desks made of lead, shelves, kitchen presses, dishwashers, lampshades, plates, cups, spoons, everything; it's all packed in industrial-sized boxes before an email is sent around to coax "friends" into sacrificing a day of their lives and possibly their backs to help the mover move. I've concluded now it's the single most important reason Germans make friends at all.
I too, have had to acquire furniture since I moved here. After priding myself on moving here with just a bootful of material possessions: books, clothes, a concrete hippo and elephant, roller blades, my laptop, a bottle of wine and big box of Barry's Tea, I now find myself unable to simply up and leave at the drop of a teabag. I've been grounded by the acquisitions of a bed, a bike, a lampshade, a Snoopy calendar, more books, a pottery bull from Perú, even a rug.
Nope, nothing. Schweinerei. A new email but 'twas a false alarm. I know I'm placing too much hope on the tidings to come, but I can't help it. I just can't wait to stop waiting...
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