It’s all go on the housing front. Mortgage for the house more or less sorted, solicitors pushing for an exchange date on the sale of the flat, surveyors booking themselves in to go and check out the new place for damp, dodgy wiring and ghosts in the understairs cupboard…
It’s very difficult to stop myself from typing Edwardian into eBay to check out what would fit in the house.
The mortgage was sorted in less than four hours, which has to be some kind of a record, and it was only an hour after that when the surveyors were on the phone. Even so, there’s a very long way to go before everything’s sorted out, and I’m sure I’ll be thoroughly sick of it all before it’s all bagged.
I think we have a bit of a tendency to shrug and accept the protracted timetable we work to in this country, which is a source of endless fascination to the Australians and New Zealanders in the office.
‘Have you moved into your house?’ I was asked in the kitchen this morning, by someone who knew I had only had by offer accepted in the last few working days before the Christmas break.
‘Have you got a moving date?’ asked another, as I was leaving tonight.
Oh, how I wish we were working to their schedule.
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