Waiting

At the moment, I’m waiting for completion to happen which probably won’t be until the afternoon. I’m determined to take the move slowly. I’m lucky, I have six full days before I have to be clear of this house so I’m trying to plan ahead.

Yesterday was difficult, not helped by getting a call at 4.30 from the lady whose house I’m buying. Her solicitor had told her that completion wasn’t until the 15^th which had, quite rightly, put her into a flat spin. Of course, it was all down to the incompetence of the estate agent/solicitors and after speaking to them, it was resolved, but that didn’t stop the stress. The poor woman was in a right old state of panic and who can blame her?

As I’ve said before, I’m finding this move hard. A while ago, I almost decided not to move at all, but realised it was fear that was getting in the way, now I know why I was scared. It’s not the usual kind of fear – of something bad that might happen – it’s rather the fear of getting it wrong.

A word of explanation is required. I’ve spent my whole life worrying about getting things right, not upsetting other people, putting everyone else first and neglecting myself. That’s what I mean about getting it wrong now. This is MY move. If I want to use the biggest bedroom as my work space, I can. If I want to make the front room into a dining/sitting room, it’s up to me, it’s ALL up to me.

That’s why as soon as I get the key, I’m going to the house, notepad and tape measure in hand and deciding what to do where. If it takes the whole day, that’s fine. I don’t have to rush.

When I tell people I’m moving, they immediately imagine that I’m running round in circles, because that’s what normally happens but I’m not doing that. Last night, I finished a jigsaw and played Freecell. This morning, I made tea, and went back to bed with a book.

Now, all I can do is wait for the phone call….