Had three hours' sleep, then woke and the house dilemma hit me with a wham-bang and then I was tossing and turning, seeing 3.30 am, 4.am go by, and finally I got up at a quarter to five. I was glad I did, because the beastly bully cat had escaped from next door again and was halfway through the cat flap, and poor Flad was cowering beneath the coffee table, terrified. I shudder to think of the cat fight that would have taken place in the house if I hadn't got up just then. I must be Flad's guardian angel!
Probably because of all my house worries, plus a major ding-dong with Mr G when I asked for some advice and help in making a decision, I have got a terribly upset tum and have been to the loo five times so far. I tried to explain how difficult it was to be in a relationship but never take any decisions together, because he has always insisted on separate lives, and never allowed me to live with him 'officially' in 'his' house. He has never let it become 'our' house so, as well as being politically disenfranchised, I feel disenfranchised relationship-wise, too.
The cottage is the only one in my price range and roughly in the right area that I have found in hours and hours (at least two hours a day) of trawling the property websites. I don't like it much but I can't go on waiting for perfection forever. I think I'll have to go for it. Just the thought of leaving the relative security of Mr G's is making my tummy roil again. I don't feel at all like going away tomorrow, especially with estate agents to face and solicitors to ring. I shall be fretting all the time. Perhaps I had better postpone my trip till things are a bit more settled...
(Ten minutes later: make that six trips to the loo.)