Towards the end of last year, my best friend bought her first house. This got me to thinking about the future and made me decide to plan to be a real grown up and put together some sort of 1 year plan (a 5 year plan seemed like too much commitment – makes perfect sense when you’re spending your life savings, right?). It was a pretty perfect and foolproof plan, save hard for 6 months then start viewing houses in May/June time.
You’d think that would be an easy plan to stick to. It was going well until the Christmas holidays and I was a backseat passenger for 2 hours with RightMove on my phone keeping me company. By the time we arrived, I had booked a viewing and applied for a mortgage in principle.
Within about 4 days I had been for a viewing and applied for an official mortgage offer. I’m great at sticking to plans. This sale fell through pretty quickly and looking back now it was a blessing in disguise. The property was lovely but it really didn’t have any of the things I said I wanted – garden, drive/garage, space for a sewing room. It was basically a flat on a busy main road with a shared access garden – all the bad parts of where I’m living now and what I’m trying to get away from. I probably should have taken that set back as a sign to go back to my original plan and save until May. That would make far too much sense. Not long after, I found the perfect looking house. It was in my budget, had a drive, garage, private garden, 3 bedrooms, and outdoor space for a hot tub. What’s not to love.
My offer was officially accepted on the 17th January. 4 months later and I’m still waiting to move. There was a glimmer of hope that we would complete mid April. That didn’t happen. I did however start packing around that time. This means I’ve been surrounded by cardboard boxes for 6 weeks. Ready to move for 6 weeks. Slowly going crazy for 6 weeks.
I could be jinxing things by writing about it now, but completion has now been set for next Tuesday. If this doesn’t happen, I’m giving up and moving abroad.
In anticipation for the new moving date, I’ve started packing (again). I made the very unwise decision to start with my wardrobe (so stupid). I’d already started with my gym clothes and going out out clothes that don’t fit right now, I have no desire to get into any of these things right now! To make things extra complicated for myself between now and the completion date I have work, potentially a date, a night in London and a 30th birthday night out. Instead of just throwing everything into suitcases, I’ve got to try and plan outfits again. Work outfits are fine, everything else I feel like I’ve forgotten how to dress myself like a functioning human. This could be an interesting week.
When I first had my offer accepted, I started clearing things out that I had been hoarding over the past 2 and half years living where I am now. I took at least a boot full of bags down to the charity banks (trying to up my karma points, like you do) but I still have a ridiculous amount of clothes, and obviously never anything to wear. So far I’m up to 2 suitcases and a holdall, I still have things hung up and things in drawers. I don’t think I need to shop for another 10 years, like that’s going to happen though! I’ve also realised just how much makeup I have that I don’t use. The boxes on the left of the end photos are full of all the makeup I wear hardly ever if at all. The bag at the side is what I use all the time. I need to either have another ruthless clear out or just start experimenting with more new looks. I know which option I prefer the sound of.
It may have become quite clear, I’m not very good at sticking to plans. I like rash, un-thought out plans that leave me no time to overthink or talk myself out of it. What could possible go wrong with logic like that?
Fingers crossed everything will run smoothly and next week I should be blogging from my new house!