Today I signed something, which hopefully was a contract for the sale of my house. Things look very promising indeed. Had all the right words on it, and it’s been sent off. Having never sold a house I’m still in two minds about whether this is a good thing or a bad thing, but hopefully it’s a good thing. Fingers still crossed, it’s not over until the Halifax no longer demands mortgage payments from me, and then it’s cigars and cream cakes all around.
Work is still strained. While I’m home I tell myself to just knuckle down, keep my gob shut, get on with the work, bring home the money and just keep a clean sheet. I get to work, shoot my mouth off, stick up for my bloody principles and all hell breaks loose. I come home, repeat ad infinitum. Oh well.