Ila Golden's Blog, page 18

Adventures of a Non-Binary Author – Scoot the Commute

Thursday morning, and I beat the alarm. Again. This is becoming a pattern. And not an enjoyable one, since the alarm is now set much earlier than it was. Still I’m awake. My pre-work routine is much simpler than my day-off one. Shower. Dress. Write for a bit. Breakfast whilst watching some YouTube. Leave. I’ll edit and exercise when I come home. Having a good routine allows things to feel more settled. Even when you’re doing everything an hour or so earlier than you’re used to.

This is my seventh new home in the last fifteen years. Settling into a new pace is pretty much second nature at this point. That’s why I know having a routine helps. It’s like this little beacon of normality, as everything around you shifts and changes. The routine doesn’t need to be strict or complicated. Just little things, in their own little order, which sets you up for the day. The routine is my safe little wake up space. And everyone needs one of those.

I don’t want to miss catching the bus, so I leave earlier than I initially planned. This results in me not seeing my partner before I leave. I know they’re awake. I heard they go straight into the bathroom as I was getting my work stuff together. I message them on the way out of the door to let them know. It’s going to be a long day without them. Thursdays are their social night, and they won’t have time to come all the way home for dinner first. It’ll be okay. These first few days are all about the learning how to make this setup work for us.

They message whilst I’m on the bus, asking about their comb. The one which was kept in the bathroom. All the bathroom stuff went into the same box. The same box they didn’t want to check the day before. Since I couldn’t remember unpacking it, I tell them it’s probably in the box. They won’t be reunited with it until the following day. At which point the comb won’t be the only thing we’re looking for.

I check my watch. Leaving earlier meant catching an earlier bus. I’m now about a twenty-minute walk from work, and have way too much time to kill. So I get off, and walk the rest of the way in. It’s a good way to get some steps in for the day. With everything going on, I keep forgetting to put my FitBit on charge. I topped it up by enough to get it through the day, but it meant my morning steps weren’t recorded. A little extra walking should fix that. Although it will be a few days before I remember to consistently charge the device again. It’s a One, and at least five years old at this point. The charge on it can be inconsistent at the best of times. So charging it most days just keeps it from dying on me. I’ve no intention of upgrading it though. Having a tracker on my waistband keeps my step count accurate.

I make it into work with time to spare. But I’m already thinking about ways to regain control over my commute. My partner and I have already discussed alternatives to the bus. The kick scooter is the top contender. We have one on the way. Or rather, we had one on the way. During my shift my partner gets a message saying it’s being returned to sender. Our choice of collection point won’t accept anything of that weight. It’s a frustration, for sure. But it’s also not the worst thing that could happen. I’ve already seen one with a front break, and a wider board I’d much rather have.

Since my partner has time to kill between work and their evening of socialising, they agree to scooter hunt. They send me a few pictures of scooters they find in various places, before making it to Smyths Toy Store. There’s a wider range here. And they carry the type I’ve had my eye on. I PayPal my partner the money. Tomorrow I will be scooting into work.

I know full well that’s not going to be easy. A kick scooter is a good form of exercise. Which translates into, this will probably be tiring. But I struggle too much with bikes, so it’s worth a try. I wake up before my alarm again. It’s getting a really annoying now, especially since I’d moved the time back on my alarm again. Still, it’s fine. Waking up naturally is better for you. Even if it doesn’t stop me from feeling as tired as hell.

The scooter is waiting for me in our living room space. I set it up after my morning routine. Then I take it outside to try it in the garden. I can balance on it okay. So, this should be doable, right? My partner and I actually get to spend five minutes together before I leave. Again I set out a little early to be on the safe side. My bag is a lot heavier than usual because I need my laptop with me today. I don’t let that stop me though.

It doesn’t take me long to be completely breathless. No matter how fit I thought I was, riding a kick scooter is a whole new level of energy usage. On the way in I stop more than once to rest. I also choose to push the scooter up a couple of steeper sections. Even with this I still make it in a decent enough time. I do spend the whole day feeling pretty breathless though. And, with the additional weight of the laptop, I figure I should probably bus it home.

That’s the plan at least. I leave work and head to where the bus stops are. Only I’ve not properly worked out which one I need. There are a few busses I could catch home. A few stops I could get on from. And now I’m in a situation where I’m running out of time to make it back down to one. Especially with the weight of both the bag and scooter I’m carrying. So I make a decision. Set the scooter back up. And scoot the commute back home. It’s exhausting. And the final hill is way too much for me to tackle at this stage. But I still make pretty good time.

I recover quickly enough to do my post-work exercise. I’ve proven to myself I can do this. I can take control back over my commute. Plus, eventually, my fitness will reach a point of making it a lot easier. I just have to stick with it. Except when it’s raining too heavily, of course. Safety first.

I now have one day off before my next shift. Then I’m working three in a row. A real test of my scooting endurance. But, for now, my mind turns towards tomorrow. It’ll be our first time looking at houses since losing our purchase. It’s both exciting and a little scary at the same time. It was six. It’s now down to four. But that’s okay. We have a secure roof over our heads. We have the time to find the place that is right. We don’t need to find somewhere tomorrow. But if we did, wouldn’t that be nice…

To be continued…

Adventures of a Non-Binary Author – Zelly Approves

We both agree, we’ll let ourselves get up when we get up in the morning. We have a lot to do. Unpacking. Food shopping. But we’ll do it on our schedule. Unfortunately our schedule is still pretty early. Despite how tiring the last few days have been, I’m still awake before six.

I focus on getting through my morning routine. My pace is somewhere between my own and we’ve got things to do today. My partner is also up earlier than they intended. This isn’t a bad thing. The more we can get done, the less stressful it will be in the long run. Once we’re both showered and dressed it’s time to start organising. First we want to switch the location of Zelly’s cage with one of the book shelves. Right now we can’t both see the TV comfortably, this will fix that. Once her cage, and our couches, are set, it’s time to tackle the next bit.

There’s a fridge, currently in the bedroom, that we want to use. It was the only item of furniture we asked to keep from what was offered to us. To use it we need somewhere to plug it in. Just not in the bedroom. We want it in the living room for convenience. We also want the choice to use some of our own kitchen equipment. Like the kettle and the rice cooker. We’ve already picked up a kitchen space saver to make this possible.

So we start by shifting boxes around, making space. Then we set up the table and move the fridge. Finally we build and set up the space saving unit, slotting what we need into place. The setups not perfect, but it will do. With the fridge plugged in and running, we can now do our food shop. I just need things a little more organised first. In the end we have lunch before we set out. There’s still plenty to do when we get back, but at least we know where our food is going now.

It takes over an hour for the food shop to be done. We’ve had to go into the city center for it, as that’s the closest Sainsbury’s. This is our big shop. Our Nectar points are needed to off-set the cost. And it works well. Nine days worth of food to get us through to the next viable food shop day. Most of it is covered by our Nectar points. We still have money on our Sainsbury’s gift card too. A cheaper way to shop made possible by my work. For us it means this week’s larger food shop has been covered by previous months savvy shopping.

We get home. I sort the food shop whilst my partner works on a different task. Once we’re both done, we focus our attention back on unpacking. We’d like to finish what’s left today, but there’s a lot to do still, and it’s already gone two. Still we potter on, tackling one task at a time, mostly. Moving between the two rooms. Shifting boxes. Sliding things under beds to get them out of the way. Eventually the end is in sight. My partner, tired, decides a box containing bathroom things has been sorted enough. This is something they will regret later. For now though we both breathe a sigh of relief at our mostly tidy set up.

My partner films it for our families, as I hoover up the mess unpacking has left behind. Well, unpacking and owning a gerbil. There’s a lot of sawdust everywhere. Strangely that’s the bit which makes it feel most like home. Even though I accounted for today in the food planning, it doesn’t take much to talk me into another takeaway. Once that’s arrived, and we’ve started eating, Zelly can finally come out for her first playtime in our new home.

She’s nervous at first. And clearly unhappy with us for the moving process. My new sitting position is right next to her cage. She doesn’t want to use my lap as a bridge to freedom. I shuffle a little away, allowing her the space she needs. It doesn’t take long after that for her to start exploring the room. She whizzes about, and it’s hard to keep an eye on her. Eventually she slows down, and returns to the couch. Now she wants to climb all over me. I’m pretty sure it means I’m forgiven. By the end of her play time she appears settled. We take this to mean our elderly gerbil approves of her new home.

Our thoughts then turn to the rest of the week. Tomorrow will be our first day commuting to work from our temporary home. Will we be able to make it in on time? Can we really make this new situation work? Only time will tell…

To be continued…

Adventures of a Non-Binary Author – Moving Day

I’m an early riser, so I managed to wake up before my alarm. Another morning of speed running my day-off routine. Can’t be helped though, we need to make sure all the last minute things are done before the movers arrive. Doing the dishes and packing away the washing up stuff the night before saves time. We’ve also picked up a no-mess breakfast to avoid having to use anything this morning.

It’s almost hard to believe this is where we are now. After spending so long waiting to move, to actually be doing it. To no longer be the one owning and living in this flat. The flat that I’ve called home for almost six years. It feels both hard to believe and very real all at the same time. Harder still because we’re not moving from here to our forever home. We’ll be having to move again before the year is out. That’s an exhausting thought. Our estate agent told me we were doing a noble thing, going through with this. I’m not sure that’s the word I would use, but I do know this is the right decision to make. We will know exactly what we’re working with this way. And when we do find our forever home, we can just say yes. No waiting. No risk of losing it because we haven’t sold yet. Just a simple, we want this, here’s our offer, do you accept?

But that moment is a long way off. Right now we have to focus on the move. I potter around, doing my morning routine. My partner wakes as I come towards the end of my exercising. They shower and dress whilst I finish up. I shower and dress once I’m done. We have a quick breakfast, before pottering around, doing the last minute things. This includes waiting for Zelly to wake. We need to contain her in the cage part of her setup. She used to having so much freedom, she will not like this. Worse still, there will be no time outside of the enclosure tonight. It’s for her own safety, of course. She can’t come out until we’re sure it’s safe for her to do so. But she’s going to be so unhappy with us.

Zelly wakes just before eight. Once she’s within the cage area, I close the door on her. She’s instantly confused. She probably doesn’t remember the last time this has happened. The last time it was to split the cage after she and her sister had a nasty fight. We got them to reclan, and had a good eight months with both of them as things had been prior. But Rye had come off worse from the fight. And we suspect it’s the reason she didn’t last long after their third birthday. As an elderly gerbil, we didn’t expect Zelly to survive this long on her own. My previous pair went close together, within a couple of weeks of each other. Zelly’s age is one of the reasons we think it would be unfair to get her a new companion. The other is that she was the more aggressive in the fight between her and her sister. We have to consider the safety of both if we were to get her a playmate. So we watched her closely the first couple of weeks. Any sign of depression and we would attempt to clan her with a new friend. nine months later and she’s still thriving on her own.

The movers arrive just before nine. They don’t get started till just after. We wait for my mum to arrive. She’s our transport. Zelly will be coming in the car with us. We do our best to stay out of the way, and clean up as things clear out. There’s no need for us to hang around too long after the flat is empty. We don’t have the keys for the rental yet, but they will be waiting for us when we arrive. Mum arrives halfway through the process. We get a few bits and pieces into her boot. Mostly right now we’re just hanging around waiting. The next stage happens after everything has been packed.

The next stage is dropping off our keys. Signing them into the estate agent, so they can be signed out once the money has gone through. That’s both an exciting and terrifying thought.The lump sum I’ll be receiving is more than I’ve ever had across all my accounts combined. Still, once we have it, we’ll be in the best position we can be. And this time we will settle for nothing less than a house.

The flat has been fully loaded into the van by eleven. The keys are dropped off quickly, and we make it to our new residence for eleven thirty. Now the unloading happens. Zelly remains in the car. She is checked on throughout. We have lunch around the same time the movers take a break. We move and shift boxes around to make space for furniture to come in. I can clearly see a lot of moving boxes around over the next couple of days. The plan was not to take out more than the essentials. But creating a space to live, even for six months, would feel more relaxed with a little more than that. The movers are done by three. As they were wrapping up we moved Zelly in. She’s still just in the cage part for now. We have to repair her enclosure just a little first.

Still, we’re in. All three of us. Now we just have to make this place feel less chaotic. We may be the home, but this will be the roof over our heads for the next sixish months. We should make that as nice as it can be. There’s a lot to get done, can we manage it all before returning to work on Thursday? We’ve only got tomorrow to find out…

To be continued…

Adventures of a Non-Binary Author – A day and two evenings to go

Everywhere we look, there’s something else we still haven’t packed yet. I grab more boxed from work. We spend most of Saturday focused on this. This is my last full day off before we move. My bossy voice comes out a lot. It’s hard to stop it. There’s a lot to organise. I’m trying to plan what can go into what box or bag. There is still so much stuff. How do we have so much stuff? We rest for the evening. We need the rest. We also need more boxes.

Sunday evening comes around both too quickly and not quickly enough. I’ve left work with yet more boxes. More of my bossy voice comes out. It makes me sound like I’m more stressed than I actually am. I can appreciate that. I know my bossy voice doesn’t come across well. But I’m just trying to focus and think. There is just so much to do, and so little time to do it in. At the end of a busy evening, we go room to room. What items can go in what half filled box or bag. Where can we put all the remaining items. At the end of it we know one thing. We still need more boxes.

Monday evening. I’ve managed to get a good number of boxes home from work with me. This should be enough. It has to be. But the evening doesn’t start smoothly. I lug the boxes all the way to my front door, only to discover I’ve left my keys in work. I swear, repeatedly. We don’t have a garden I can pop the boxes in. They’re too heavy to carry back to work. I swear some more. Taking a breath, I check the bins. Recycling has been emptied today. One of the bins is clean enough to leave the boxes in. With them secured, I dart back to work. Keys recovered, I make my way back home. Boxes back out of their hiding place. In and up to the flat.

I do my evening exercise, then start putting things into boxes. A text from my partner lets me know their new desk is ready to collect. They got the text about it as they reached the front door. I laugh at the near mirroring of our situations. The universe clearly didn’t want either of us to just make it home tonight.

We do as much as we can before dinner. Then we enjoy a couple of hours of rest. We’ll do some more before bed. But we’re down to the last minute items at this point. Well last minute items, and the TV. The TV we’ll do before bed. We just want to relax a little first.

Tomorrow needs to be an early start. We’ve no idea how long things will take, but neither of us are working again until Thursday. Will that be enough time for us to set up our new home? How will Zelly, our elderly gerbil, survive the trip? What will life really be like living in this new place for the next six to… who knows how many months? Just one more sleep and then… the next step…

To be continued…

Adventures of a Non-Binary Author – Just One More Box

The appointment with our mortgage adviser means an early start to our Saturday. There’s a certain routine I like to follow in the mornings on my days off. Writing. Exercising. Shower. Editing with a side of breakfast. Oh, and yesterday’s dishes. I have no fixed time scale for each task. On mornings when I have nothing else to do, it means I can take my time. Going at your own pace makes it all the more enjoyable. But mornings like this Saturday’s, when I have a fixed event to plan around, I have to be time conscious.

I rise before six, just for the wiggle room. After we’ve spoken to our mortgage advisor, the plan for the rest of the day is packing. As much as we can get done as possible. Which means I need to get my full routine done before we leave. I won’t get a lie in now until after we’ve moved. My ‘insomnia’ makes the idea exhausting. But needs must. We want to know if our affordability is what we believe it to be. We want to get a house. Freehold. No management company to create extra stress. Just a place of our own. Completely our own. We need the mortgage consultation today to go well.

Looking for somewhere to rent has given us a better idea of what we can afford. We didn’t really consider that last time. We’d been living together about six months at that point. And my independent mindset hadn’t fully adjusted to the idea of shared finances. So I was looking at the projected numbers and thinking only about what I could afford, plus a little. The reality of what we could afford felt like a foreign concept. Or rather, how to figure out what we could afford didn’t really occur to me. Who’d have thought I’d be grateful for anything in this mess we’d found ourselves in.

We like our mortgage broker. He’s friendly, upbeat, and the type of professional who feels like he’s on your side. We’ve kept him up-to-date with everything that’s been going on. We even saw him the week the purchase fell through. Technically it was the Saturday before it was officially confirmed. But the writing was on the wall. So he assured us once we were ready to start again he’d be ready for us.

Well we’re ready now. Now that we know where we’re going to be living. Now we can finally see the clear skies after the storm. We’re ready to start thinking about the future again. So we sit down with him. Tell him what we’ve figured out since doing this last year, that we can afford a higher mortgage. He goes through all the figures with us. It’s better than we could have hoped. The range we’ve already been looking in, we could theoretically go a little higher than that. We leave feeling elated.

But now we have to return to the packing. And everywhere we turn there’s one more thing to find a place for. Work cuts down the amount of time we have, and we’re quickly running out of it. How do more things keep appearing? We need more boxes. More bags. More time. It feels like an impossible task. How on earth can we get it all done…?

To be continued…

Adventures of a Non-Binary Author – Completion Ahead

We have our answer. We know where we’re going to be living. It’s the two room situation. Less convenient location, but there will be enough space, and that’s the bit that matters. Well, no, the bit that matters is we have somewhere. We can continue with the new plan now.

Complete the sale. Move. Look for somewhere else to purchase. That’s the new plan.

First thing Monday morning I call our solicitor. I let him know we’ve found somewhere. I let him know when we can move in. Things get set into motion quickly after that. But there’s still a level of anxiety floating around. Until exchange of contracts has happened things could still go wrong. The date we’re aiming for is eight days away. It’ll be two before we know for certain the exchange of contract will go ahead. Until then we have to act as though we will be moving. So many places to contact. This is my least favorite part of the moving process. Always has been. Doesn’t help that moving into all-bills-included means an early exit fee for the broadband. But it’s okay. Just need to focus on getting it all done. Then maybe sorting a little more of the packing.

I don’t say the words out loud, but my brain keeps wondering ‘what if the buyer pulls out‘. My partner and I have discussed what we’d do in that situation. It would be annoying to start again, but we could put more towards the current mortgage. Pay it off a little faster. Be in a better position for next time. But we don’t want there to be a next time. We want to complete this time. After everything we’ve been through the last couple of weeks, if we don’t complete now it would be a disaster.

The idea there will be more bad luck persists. But you have to keep moving forward. Making plans as if it’s not a possibility. Like getting a parent to help take some of the boxes off your hands. We’re temporarily downsizing. That’s the way we have to look at the setup we’re moving into. Just a temporary downsize. With how many moving home things I’ve done the last couple of days, I’ve now got the new address memorised. That has to mean this will happen, doesn’t it? No more bad luck. Just smooth sailing from here on out. I feel like I’m begging the universe at this point. But what else can I do? So much of this whole mess has been out of our hands. We just need this one bit to be easy,

Wednesday morning. Day off for me. Waiting for some of our boxes to be collected and stored at a parents house. First one phone call. Our solicitor. He sounds so serious I’m worried it’s bad news. It’s not. He’s phoning to say contract exchange is moving forward. They’re sorting it now. Just needs my permission to proceed. I agree. Less than twenty minutes later, another call. It’s official. Completion is locked into place. We have no choice now. We will be moving next week. The news feels like absolute elation after everything we’ve been through. Emotional too. I hate moving at the best of times. This flat has been my home for almost six years. It doesn’t matter that I’ve known this day was coming. The reality still makes me feel a little sad, on top of everything else.

Less than a week and we will be in our temporary home. We can finally start thinking about the step that comes after. All of this renting business has given us a new perspective on what we can afford. Just need to see if what we believe is possible is actually possible. And that means speaking to our mortgage broker again.A little more luck smiles down on us. It’s last minute, but we get an appointment booked in for the Saturday before we move.

Are we right about our affordability? Just a few more days and we’ll find out…

To be continued…

Adventures of a Non-Binary Author – The Waiting Game

Saturday evening. We need somewhere to move by the end of this weekend, or we risk losing the sale. There’s two ways this can play out now. The landlord says yes to our application, and we get the self-contained flat. The location is a lot more convenient. The whole space would be ours. Or the landlord says no, and we say yes to the gift horse we’ve been given. The location is less convenient, but we’ve run the numbers. We can make it work. The two rooms that would be ours are big enough for our needs. The kitchen and bathroom would be shared, but we can figure out a new routine to work around that. We don’t need the setup to be perfect. We just need a safe place to live, whilst we figure out our next steps.

I’m working the following day. I almost always work Sundays. But knowing the decision will be made before I finish work puts a different feel on things. Still, we both try our best not to let it ruin our evening. We have Sushi for dinner. The rest of the too-good-to-go picked up the evening before. We’d had half of it at lunchtime, before seeing either of our possible future homes. We add the last of our garlic bread to go with it; one less frozen item to worry about.

We’ve been preparing to move for a while. That was the plan. Sell and purchase. All in one go. Since December we’ve been trying to run our freeze as low as possible. We’re not taking the white goods. The place we were planning to move to was unoccupied. The less freezer stuff we have, the less food we risk losing in the move. Also less to transport. For almost three months we’ve only been buying in the barest amount of freezer food for the week. Changing it up a little every now and then, but overall keeping it as minimal as we can. We’ve been storing up the Nectar Points too. Big shop post move, once the freezer situation was sorted. That was the plan. Well we’ll still be doing a big shop post move. We just need to know where we’re moving to.

We put on some comfort telly. Just need to get through till bedtime. We’ve got another restless night ahead. Not knowing can be the absolute worse. Especially when everything feels out of your hands. We do our best to remain positive. Talk about all the different options for making each of the spaces work for us. We will know where we will be living within the next twenty-four hours. That’s enough for now.

Sunday morning in work feels long. The temptation to keep looking at my phone every five minutes is real. I’ve been trying hard to not keep doing that. With the upending of our plans, the last few weeks have required being in more regular communication. With each other. With potential landlords. With our solicitor. Etc. I know I shouldn’t be checking so much, but I can’t help it. I’m stressed. The situation is out of my control. And I just want to know what’s going on.

We get our answer just before one. Our fate has been decided. We know where our future home will be…

To be continued…

Adventures of a Non-Binary Author – Needing a Roof Over Our Heads

The clock is ticking. We need to find somewhere to rent before our buyer’s mortgage offer runs out. Which means we need to have found a place yesterday. Or at least that’s how it feels. The rental market is a very different place to five years ago. You can’t just walk into a property and say I’ll take it. You have to fill out an application of interest, and hope yours is chosen from the overflowing pile. There are so many looking for somewhere to live. And luck is just not on our side.

We look on every platform. Put out as many feelers as we can. The situation is stressful and disheartening, but the two of us, we’re determined. And, above all else, we have each other. That’s something worth remembering. But we don’t just have each other. Since moving to Devon to live with me, my partner has made plenty of friends. One of those has a promising lead. The situation and location aren’t the most ideal. But on paper we can see the possibility working. We still need to see it of course. And there’s time to fit in a few more viewings before we do. The opportunities are slim, but there is hope.

As the week wears on, the opportunities dwindle away one by one. By Friday evening, with the deadline creeping ever closer, there are only two options left to view. The friend’s promising lead, and a sudden new contender. The new contender is up first. It’s nice enough. Self-contained. Just enough room for the important things. But we will need to send some stuff to live with family until we purchase our forever home. We put in our application before going to view the promising lead. No matter what happens next, we need a place this weekend or we will lose the sale. And our fate is in someone else’s hands.

The promising lead is more spacious than expected. At least for the space that would be ours. The landlord is friendly, and understanding of our situation. The rooms are ours if we want them. We know we will hear about the new contender by the following afternoon. So we let him know we will have a decision for him then. He is fine with this.

Less than twenty-four hours sit between us and our answer. There is no way for us to know which way this is going to go. But at least we have one thing on our side now. By the end of Sunday we will have a place to go…

To be continued…

Adventures of a Non-Binary Author: Spanner in the Works

It was all supposed to be so simple. Partner coming to live with me in my flat, until my mortgage was up for renewal. Putting the flat on the market. Selling. Buying somewhere we could start our family together. Only selling the flat took much longer than we expected,.And all the properties we liked kept slipping through our fingers. Still, eventually, we got that offer in. Within days our offer was accepted on our then top contender. It should have been so simple after that. But the path to happiness never does run smoothly.

The selling process is easy. We have very few enquiries. All the ones we do have, we satisfy quickly. The purchasing side… not so simple. There are two major sticking points. The Fire Risk Assessment is from seven years ago. Not illegal, but also doesn’t look good to a lender. The management company say they’ll get a new one done after the purchase is complete. Our solicitor could work with that. Lender will trust the judgement of the solicitor on such things. Only there’s another problem. A bigger, unforseen one. One that’s about to unravel months of waiting.

Does the building fall under the Building Safety Act for high risk buildings? Should be a straightforward yes or no, shouldn’t it? Our solicitor’s risk assessment team decide the building does in fact fall under the guidance. We’re a few months in at this point, and the call means an addition to our final bill. But it’s okay, right? Just more paperwork needed, and everything should continue as is. But the sellers’ say the building is exempt. They give vague reasons. Then get annoyed when they’re ‘asked the same questions over and over again‘. Their answers have not satisfied the enquiry. The risk assessment team needs clear evidence that it is exempt.

This goes on for a while. The deadline on our mortgage offer is quickly approaching. The sellers can’t afford to keep the property empty much longer. Our solicitor figure maybe he should test the waters. See if the lender will be okay with these two points unresolved. That’s when it’s discovered the lender has strict rules for BSA buildings. Our solicitor doesn’t meet their criteria. It will be a rejection if he tries anything now. But with the seven-year-old FRA we would struggle to get completion with any lender. We need a resolution. Either the sellers’ solicitor satisfies 100% the property is exempt from the BSA. Or the management company needs to update their FRA now!

Well the second is out. The management company won’t change their position. There’s no room in the budget for it ahead of March. The sellers are getting twitchy. We now have a week to resolve the BSA issue. Their solicitor makes a valiant effort. Unfortunately it’s thwarted by a 2022 amendment. They’re informed of this on the Wednesday. They know we’re on a tight deadline, but they don’t check their emails till Friday. They’re reaching for straws now. And by Monday evening, that’s it. The property has slipped through our fingers.

But we’re so close to the end with the sale. And, once we have sold, we can always find somewhere else. We’ll know exactly how much we can afford. No more guesses. We can take our time too. Save up a little more. Maybe get somewhere that’s freehold. We don’t want the hassle we’ve just been through again. So the race is on. We need a rental. But the rental market is a very different place to five years ago.

Can’t give up hope. Must be prepared to make compromises. We will find something. We have to…

To be continues…

Being an introvert

Most of the people I work with probably don't realise I'm highly introverted. That's because I'm not your stereotype shy introvert wallflower. But when you look at how I am outside of work, yeah it's pretty clear how introverted I am. I live alone, and avoid interacting with my neighbours as much as possible. I know I should see my friends more, but months will pass without me realising that I haven't met up in person with any of them in a long time. I see my mum once a week most of the time, but don't worry if she's away for a week or two. I don't spend much time with my dad, or speak much to my brothers, not because I don't care about them, they're family and I love them. I just don't really think too much about how little I interact with anyone outside of work because I don't feel lonely or isolated the majority of the time.

And that's what it means to be an introvert isn't it. It's not that you dislike people, or are too shy to interact with them. It's more that you can be comfortable and relaxed on your own for long stretches of time without feeling lonely.

But for me it also has a major drawback. As an indie author trying to self promote on the cheap I should be utilising social media so much more than I actually do. But not only am I just bad at using it in general, I'm also good at forgetting I should be using it to begin with. It's not something I sure of or comfortable with. So I'm never going to be some social media personality. Just that writer who sometimes posts something other than links to her books or vlogs. And that's never going to get me very far...