I am in a dilemma. Do I stretch myself to the limit, leaving myself with precious little cash in reserve, and buy the house in Uxbridge (miles from friends but near Mr G), or do I buy the much cheaper cottage in North London (near friends but an hour and a half from Mr G - and Flad) that I saw ages ago and has just come back on the market? It also needs a certain amount of work.
I have to make a decision this weekend but on Monday morning first thing, I shall be on a train to Liverpool and shan't be back till Wednesday, and on Thursday the survey is being done on the house in Uxbridge and I've been unable to get the surveyor on the phone today.
It won't be a peaceful weekend, I won't sleep and I shan't be able to relax in Liverpool. In fact, I am cursing the fact that it's now, rather than some other time. Isn't it always the way? I've just received a£200 bill for yet another month of storage. I've forgotten what I've got in the unit! I know all my books are in there, but what else? My chest of drawers that the last set of removers broke the leg off... six collapsible chairs that I use for parties... washing machine... stuff from my parents' house that I haven't gone through yet... two filing cabinets... a collection of art deco pottery that I accumulated in the mid '80s when I was earning pots of money... wine glasses... cuddly toys... (no, actually, I've got those with me now)... paintings... erghhhhh!
Pup On My Pillow!
5 days ago