Well, as luck would have it there is a knock-on effect here. First off, it means I have had to sell a little at previous tenancy, and so can’t use the £9,000 I had saved up to spend when I first moved in to splurge on another deposit if I choose to move again.
So, by moving into The Lip pair of one bedroom flats (yes, shared, and somewhere I wish my younger self would have went, I shall never understand why people queue around the block for a space that is floor to ceiling! I remember my friends’ parents having to say “Are you done yet?” to them as they scrambled to have a go, but I’m pretty sure in their imagination they imagine there was a magnet pushing them to the front of the queue.
However, as far as getting stuff done around here, I’m right there in the middle of the top tenants, but still having to make do with 20-minute taps to my Teutonic arm as they slide down my immaculate handiwork, of which I am damn sure I took over a week.
So, aside from the ruddiness of note, maybe it means I really do love my job, and am a keeper in the world of deranged, ecstatically overworked housekeepers; or it could be something else altogether. Also, I can’t decide. All I know is that I’m very happy where I am, with no plans for a house change any time soon. But either way, it’s given me a new outlook on life. “Stuff happens,” is what people always say. “It’s just money, what’s the big deal?”