Saturday, July 29, 2006
I am quite beside myself.
The phone rang earlier and it was someone from the Homeswap scheme, the one that I have absolutely NO faith in, and I straightaway did my standard spiel, about my flat being top floor, no lift or balcony, fully expecting the conversation to then be over pretty quickly, as usual, and to my complete amazement they are still interested and are coming to view that flat tomorrow!
And her flat is ground floor, with communal gardens!!!
OMG! My mind starts to race. I can't stop it. This could be my lucky break, says Jay. This could be my turn. For a while I'm totally falling into it. How close Ace would be to all her school mates, the whole living without stairs thing...and then my eyes turn to this flat. The bare plaster walls in the bedroom I soon decide is the least of my problems, in every room there is decoration despair. Missing cupboard doors in the kitchen, curtains not quite hanging properly on poles, walls desperate for a lick of paint, stuff, just stuff, everywhere clogging up all the corners and cupboards...
I discover the wash basket crammed full of Jays dirty washing which he has thoughtfully brought around for me to do, but not told me about and it smells, and I cant actually do any washing because if I do, it'll have to hang around the house (like it does) and well, not having anywhere to dry your washing would be off putting wouldn't it? I must create the illusion of a beautiful clean, easy to live in penthouse luxury flat by midday tommorow.
Argh....the madness has set in, and deep down I know the chances of anyone swapping ground floor for up here, are remote, but as much as I keep reminding myself, I've been given a grain of hope.
The phone rang earlier and it was someone from the Homeswap scheme, the one that I have absolutely NO faith in, and I straightaway did my standard spiel, about my flat being top floor, no lift or balcony, fully expecting the conversation to then be over pretty quickly, as usual, and to my complete amazement they are still interested and are coming to view that flat tomorrow!
And her flat is ground floor, with communal gardens!!!
OMG! My mind starts to race. I can't stop it. This could be my lucky break, says Jay. This could be my turn. For a while I'm totally falling into it. How close Ace would be to all her school mates, the whole living without stairs thing...and then my eyes turn to this flat. The bare plaster walls in the bedroom I soon decide is the least of my problems, in every room there is decoration despair. Missing cupboard doors in the kitchen, curtains not quite hanging properly on poles, walls desperate for a lick of paint, stuff, just stuff, everywhere clogging up all the corners and cupboards...
I discover the wash basket crammed full of Jays dirty washing which he has thoughtfully brought around for me to do, but not told me about and it smells, and I cant actually do any washing because if I do, it'll have to hang around the house (like it does) and well, not having anywhere to dry your washing would be off putting wouldn't it? I must create the illusion of a beautiful clean, easy to live in penthouse luxury flat by midday tommorow.
Argh....the madness has set in, and deep down I know the chances of anyone swapping ground floor for up here, are remote, but as much as I keep reminding myself, I've been given a grain of hope.
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