in a pickle
I was going to title this post "expletive deleted”, but then since I’m still spinning and fuming and – albeit quietly under my breath – swearing it didn’t seem appropriate. If the path of true love never did run smooth what did the path to house buying never do? Yesterday I was confident that contracts would be exchanged this week and, with completion following two weeks later, we’d be in our new flat with a week to spare. Fool! Complacent fool!
It turns out that the tenants in the sett-to-be were not given their two months notice when they should have been (blame can be apportioned equally between vendor and agent), even though I was assured that they would be. As a result, we will have a ten-day period of homelessness – ten days of transience for us is not that big a deal, but finding somewhere to store all of our belongings is a major, major problem. Not to mention, now instead of one period of upheaval we are looking at two as we move everything once into storage and then again to the sett. I’d like to think this is a family-friendly (for the most part) place. So I ask you to imagine the air turning blue for an extended period of time, rather than actually transcribing my thoughts verbatim. I don’t believe it!
Anybody got any bright ideas?