On a scale of 1 to 10 of bad news I could have received today, I think we definitely hit an 8.5 today. Thankfully, no-one has died (a definite 10 on the scale I’d say) and I have no husband to divorce, but the next most stressful thing in life, moving house, has delivered, shall we say, a curve ball.
As you know, bearing in mind I talk about it often enough on the blog, I’m living with Dad right now as my new house was being renovated ready for us to move into. You know what’s coming don’t you? I had a call today from the landlord to say that, after lots of umm’ing and aaah’ing, he had now decided to sell the house instead. I don’t know why, and I guess it’s not relevant really.
I cannot begin to tell you how upset/angry I was/am. I’m not sure whether I’m more upset or more angry yet as I don’t think I’ve quite processed the information. I’ve been living with Dad for six weeks expecting to move into this house and now I have to start the search all over again. I’m dreading telling Dad, telling Dexter was bad enough who, surprisingly, took it better than I expected. I did preface the bad news with the line “We’re going out for a curry tonight,” which helped immensely.
I know shit happens and sometimes you should just expect the unexpected, but quite frankly I would just rather it didn’t happen to me for once.
I’m made of strong stuff and have taken the news on the chin. Once I had a little cry, I got in touch with a couple of estate agents to get my details put back on their books and I’ve started searching on Right Move again. But for the love of God I really wish I didn’t have to go through this whole rigmarole again. I honestly thought I had hit the jackpot and finally found some security for us.
Having said all of that, a plan B has presented itself in the form of another friend looking to rent out her Mum’s house. It’s in a similar area, with a slightly cheaper rent, and maybe this will work out for the best. Who knows? I’m going to see the house next week when the tenant comes back from their holidays and if that house doesn’t work out, then I will just keep looking. I’m not sure what else I can do really, I’m just thankful that my Dad has let us stay here for as long as he has. I’m plying him with lots of bottles of white wine but I think I might have to double it before I break the bad news to him tonight.
Anyway, onwards and upwards. These things happen for a reason and who knows, the next house might be even nicer.
In the meantime, send gin. ALL the gin.