Stages of house moving (assuming one has keys to both places for several days): 1. Denial. 2. Moving unobtrusive things. 3. Moving good things. 4. Confronting the junk that’s left. 5. More denial. 6. Oh crap, the old place doesn’t feel like home any more. I need to finish and get everything to the new place as fast as possible.
In this case there was an externally imposed deadline. I finished at 6:30 this morning and the workmen came at 8. And in addition to my own stuff, I had to save everything from the common room that was attractive and small enough to move, since the workmen were going to trash it all anyway. Thus the painting of Prague is now in my hands.
PS 2015: I still have the painting of Prague, a bit worse for intercontinental moving since the canvas is actually an unfolded cardboard box. The flatmates could never remember for sure who painted it but thought it might be Martina Cleary.