i'll be back

Phewwwwee what a couple of week’s that was. I am now officially homeless, temporarily loaded and have travelled from Herne Hill to Hounslow, although, as they say……..I’ll be back.

The sale of my flat moved very slowly and I did nothing to speed it up myself as I continued to look for a garden flat. There had been nothing to look at in weeks even after I had extended the search to W3 and W12 as Daddy had asked “don’t you want to move nearer to home?” So sweet, after 10 years away. I’d also been trying to ignore the sale as much as possible to reduce my stress levels and eventually the Estate Agent called and told me to start thinking about an exchange date. Suddenly the very next day I was exchanging contracts in approx 10 days. Crikey, I hadn’t even called a removal firm. By Wednesday I had all the remaining paperwork and this was duly despatched to the absent freeholder who lives in Brighton to sign first as the others live in London.

I immediately started bringing bubble wrap, boxes and a tape gun home from work and gathered a moving plan together in my head. It pays at times like these to be anal. I called a removal firm, pencilled a removal date for the following Thursday, and they came around to give me a quote on the Friday, which I took off to pack. Turned out they also did storage and at a cheaper rate than the other company I had looked into. Two birds, one stone. Thank Goodness I took a day off, as looking for somewhere to live cut into my available packing time. Friday’s action was cut short as I went to look at a hovel in Acton and then went to see Mogwai with the Vixen at the RAH. They are just about the only group in the world that I would have bothered about at such a time and cor, they were as lush as ever. Saturday was again broken up by a viewing, my first in HH for over 5 or 6 weeks. Reluctantly I left the house on the way to what I was sure was going to be a dump. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It turned out to be my dream flat, with a 35-foot well maintained back garden, a shed, 3 coal bunkers, bars on all but the front windows and décor that I wouldn’t dream of changing. I rang the Estate Agent immediately and told him that I wanted to make an offer. There was a couple viewing after me and I felt sure that they would be making one too. It’s just that sort of a flat. It’s amazing. The remainder of the weekend was spent in intensive packing in sweltering heat, apart from a brief vodka and cards session at Perry’s. Although when Sunday night came I still had a lot to do, I was confident I could do it all in time if I packed in the evenings. Work is still mental with some of us are close to tears at times and leaving on time made it all feel worse but the WB was very good about it all and told me to do what I had to do.

The Estate Agent called me on Monday and told me that the other couple had as predicted offered the asking price. I offered it too and he told me that he would call me back. In the meantime the all important forms had not arrived over the weekend and knowing that the absent neighbour was in hospital for a minor operation on Saturday and Sunday, despite being quietly frantic, I only sent 1 text and was told that no post had arrived. On arriving at work I checked the Royal Mail site to track the progress of the forms. They had tried to deliver on the previous Thursday. Grrrr. Trying to keep my head and some vague sense of compassion, after all he was just out of hospital, I sent a long text explaining the situation. The Estate Agent called me back with the news that we were in a sealed bid situation. I immediately raised my offer and was told to sit tight until Wednesday morning. Arrrrrggghh. He also explained that my imminent exchange would be considered favourable. So, on hearing nothing back from the absent neighbour after 3 hours I followed up with a barrage of texts and was relieved to finally hear at 5.30 that the forms were on the way back to my work address. Phew. Some people’s version of urgent really does differ substantially from mine. Needless to say that I was in a very bad mood at work all day and if anyone even looked at me my hair raised itself on ends, my nostrils flared and I generally looked like Bianca from Benders.

On top of all this Big Bro was due to came over on Monday night to move my stuff into my new digs. I took over all my things, including anything flammable (which can’t be stored with my other stuff), clothes, some books and CDs and things that made me feel ‘at home’. It was excellent fun strapping my mattress to the roof of the car in belting rain while simultaneously water proofing it. Still, Dom is just the man for such a job and he came prepared. We unloaded and he gave me a quick tour of the house. The most memorable thing is the just wave at it, look no hands, toilet flusher. He’s a bit of a hoarder and had warned me about the mess but I was still surprised to see just about every surface covered in ‘things’, shelves everywhere covered in ‘things’ and having to walk around rooms sideways because of, you guessed it ‘things’. He gave me a quick drive around the area to show me the shops, the buses and tube and then we hit the sack exhausted. He’d also warned me about the low flying aircraft (so low the plane’s lights actually light up the garden going overhead sometimes) and pointed out a box of earplugs. As it was cloudy the planes were particularly low but I decided to see just how bad it was, for future reference.

The planes didn’t stop me from falling to sleep, however they did wake me up very early and I went into work on Tuesday feeling tired. I did perk up when the estate agent rang a day early to tell me that as a result of the sealed bids the flat was MINE. I was on the train but still jumped up and screamed and was generally oblivious to everything until I heard him say that it was all conditional on my exchanging contracts on the Thursday and completing as soon as possible after that. More good fortune arrived with the post and I called the other 2 free holders to arrange to meet up with them later that night. First neighbour was a rendezvous at Victoria Station where we asked a lady waiting for the train to be a witness. They both bore it very well. Neighbour two was in the flat decorating and we were just about to ask a passing pedestrian to be a witness when we saw a neighbour’s light on. He seemed sad that I was leaving and I must say that I would have liked him as a neighbour. Ah. Then I was back to packing and the season double finale of Lost. As my bed was at my brother’s, I had to sleep on my old futon with a crap duvet and cushion for a pillow. I have absolutely no idea how I slept on it happily for 10 years. Another nights bad sleep.

I woke on Wednesday feeling tired but very positive thinking that the last step was biking the forms off to my solicitor. But oh no, I had to go in there. More time away from my desk. Argh. Luckily the solicitor is not too far from work and I treated myself to a cab there and back. The controller had quoted me £20, which I told the driver at the beginning and end of the journey. He screwed up his face when I brought it up at the end of the trip and I thought here we go but imagine my delight when he said that he wouldn’t take more than £14. Naturally I gave him a tip, I mean he had got me there and back in what is traditionally known in other parts as a ‘lunch hour’. His constant farting and BO were forgotten as soon as I could take a few deep breaths. So far so good, and all I had left to do was finish off my packing and actually move. I left work at around 8 thinking that I would need to be up until all hours but in the end I was in bed for 1 with a whole 6 hours bad futon style sleep ahead of me. I thought I can do this.

I was up, showered, and dressed, with a paper and coffee waiting for the removal men at 8.30am. When 9am came I checked the paperwork to make sure that I had the right day. By 9.30am I was convinced that a firm on the internet had duped me and that they had swindled me out of the £500 fee. My suspicions were confirmed when I rang the number on the paperwork and eventually got through to a drippy ‘hello” and then “wrong number”. I collected myself and redialled and was relieved to get through to the firm and told that 3 men were just around the corner. Once they arrived things could not have gone any smoother and they kept me busy making tea and biscuits and cleaning up the bits of flat that had previously housed my possessions in cardboard boxes. My life was put into 2 wooden crates to be carted off to Bromley. They were gone by 12.15 and just as I was signing my paperwork, my solicitor called to say that I was exchanging AND competing that day. I immediately called my estate agent who confirmed my offer there and then and said that a letter would be in the post. I cleared up the miscellaneous crap, gave it all a final clean and handed in my keys by 1.15. My last glance around my flat was strangely devoid of any emotion at all. I just thought “what a dump”. Odd eh, after 10 years. Mind you I’d recently had some practice at letting go eh, and I’m right good at it now. With my world on my back and nearly a whole day to kill I spontaneously phoned the hairdresser in HH who could fit me in at 2.30pm. I waited until then in HH Station, with a sandwich and coffee from the deli while calling BT, etc from the station foyer to tell them that I had moved. I had accidentally packed my house phone the night before and they were all Freephone numbers, though not free from my mobile. Opps.

I got to Hounslow for 6ish and spent the evening trying to figure out how things, such as the TV remote, work, as bro is in Ireland with Daddy. Sensing defeat quickly I settled with making my room feel like home, amongst various gym equipment. As I said bro’s is filled with ‘things’ and I wasn’t surprised to find 2 compasses in the living room, so I set up my come get me light in the SW corner first. Again the planes woke me up very early and I was a shadow of my former self at work on Friday. My body was tired from constant packing and lack of sleep, as well as being repulsed by its recent diet of microwave meals and lack of exercise. Yet it was also exhilarated from everything going so smoothly in the end. It didn’t feel like it at the time, but moving was a piece of cake in the end. I’m free from a chain, living with my bro and I’m rich and free. On Friday night I decided to give the industrial ear plugs a go and I slept for 10 ½ hours!