There hasn't been a blog post from me for quite some time. It's not that I've suddenly mellowed, fallen into a wine-induced coma or had a terrible life event befall me.
It's down to sheer lack of arsedness. Arsedness is a good word. I might have made it up, but that doesn't stop it being a damn good word. When one cannot be arsed doing something, one is displaying a lack of arsedness. Any word deriving from the word 'arse' has to be good, right?
Ok, so since my arsedness levels were last high enough for me to post what has happened?
Well, in the wider world - lots. Most notably Britain dodged a 50 calibre, uranium tipped, explode-upon-impact bullet in the form of a Labour government. This is A Good Thing. Despite what Labour would have you believe, they are not Feminists. They can wear as many sweat-shop produced poor quality t-shirts proclaiming themselves as such, but they are not. Neither are they competent, nor socialists. I'm happy that the Conservatives got back in with an over-all majority and can get on with job of fixing this country without the wringing-hand Liberal Democrats stopping them because they think they're being nasty. Life isn't fair and we all have to make difficult decisions, prioritise what we spend our money on and pay back any money that we borrow. So, yay, go Dave & all that - get on with it.
On a more personal level - and here is the real reason I'm posting again - we're moving house.
Why should I want to share this with anyone? Well, bearing in mind the practically no fucker ever reads this Blog you might think that I don't want to share it at all. And you'd be close to the truth. Not that I don't want to, but that I can't.
The only vaguely 'feminist misogynist' thing about this post is that the reason I can't share my news with all my friends and acquaintances in the real world is because of a complete and utter unmitigated grade one Bitch Troll From Hell (hereon in 'BTFH') within my family. So, a feminist (me) hating another woman - kinda misogynisty but not really because I don't hate her because she's a woman, I hate her because she's a BTFH.
If the BTFH finds out that we're moving, she'll ring the estate agents for the house we're buying and go to have a look around it. She'll waste the time of the vendor and the agent, she might even put in a counter-offer against us just to be spiteful, or tell the vendor that we can't really afford the house and encourage her to drop out of the sale. No, really, she's that much of a BTFH. The damage this woman has caused within my family is beyond belief. I will never again expose myself or those close to me to her vile, two-faced, spiteful, shit-stirring antics. So I can't tell anyone I know about this in case they tell someone that they know, who tells someone that they know who just so happens to be the BTFH.
But anyway, moving house. This is STRESSFUL! We've got the whole property chain thing going on which I've never experienced before. My first house I bought from the estate of the old guy who had passed away - so no chain. We then bought this house before I'd sold that house and the vendors of this house were emigrating - so again, no chain. Now we find ourselves in the middle of a chain with at least 2 people below and above us, if not more. This means I have absolutely no idea how long the whole process is going to take.
I want to start packing - I like to be organised - but being as this could take 6 weeks or 6 months, who knows, I don't know what I can safely pack away and what I might need. I feel like I should be doing something but in reality there's nothing I can do. Just carry on as normal and wait for something to happen. I hate not being the controller of my own destiny.
Thankfully I have work two days a week where I am so busy I have no time to think about the move. At home, I keep opening cupboards and fretting about when I should pack their contents. I'm trying to use up the food in the freezer and cupboards so there's less to take with us, but this has resulted in some rather bizarre dinner menus and a request from my lovely husband to resume service as normal or he's calling Dominos. And he's banned me from printing off any more 'moving checklists' from the internet. So I've bought myself a grown-up colouring book and some posh pens to while away any spare time and stop myself from obsessing over conveyancing, removals and party-wall agreements.
I just want it all to be sorted, I want to wake up in my new home with all my stuff around me and embark on this new chapter in our lives. If anyone sees a Fairy Godmother while they're out and about, can you please ask her to wave her wand and 'make it so'?
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