Yesterday we lost our house. Well, I guess it wasn’t really ours to loose. Yesterday we lost a house we were pretty serious about putting an offer in on. I know I know, there’s a chance our offer wouldn’t have been accepted. And possibly, the couple (I’m not their fan) that put in their offer before us, would’ve just put in their (really great) offer after us and that would’ve been accepted anyway. But still. It sort of feels like my heart has been ripped out. I’m utterly depressed. Sort of like when I found out my ‘friend’ had been kissing my boyfriend on new year’s eve back in 1997. Actually, this sucks more.
I’m being brattish aren’t I? Its just that the search has gone on for far too long now. I have show-house fatigue. I don’t have it in me to make small-talk with the agents about the character of the home, or the high ceilings or these “lovely windows”. Most the time I’d gut the entire house and start again. Except this house. This house was in an area that we have been ridiculed for choosing, but we didn’t care. It’s ‘young family’ heaven. Even though we’re only two people. It had three bathrooms. I mean THREE!! It had a kitchen counter you could fit 12 women around all drinking champagne for bookclub (wine club, dinner club. Who cares – drink champagne at my house!). It was north-facing, it was modern. It had a double garage. Did I mention the kitchen counter?
And then the ‘couple’ had to go and make their (really great) offer. And break my heart.
And so, this post, I’m just having a good old moan. The search goes on. We will find our home. Or maybe the ‘couple’s’ bond application won’t go through. But thats just nasty of me.