I have a sneaking suspiscion that I may be a bit nervous about moving into our new flat. Last night I went to bed nice and early. Partially because I'd been drunk on and off for two days and partially because I was just plain old tired (one of the drawbacks of cutting caffine from your diet: when tiredness kicks in, theres not a lot you can do about it!). Anyhow… I went to bed and thought I'd soon drop off to sleep. Except sleep didn't seem to come easy. Rather than let me sleep, my brain decided it was appropriate to keep me awake and make me worry about how I was going to lay the laminate flooring in the hall, specifically how I was going to get straight planks of wood to bend around that nasty 45 degree bend near the front door.

I'm not a handyman… not by a longshot, but we don't have the budget to hire someone to do the work for us, so the missus has decided we're doing it for ourselves. Why oh why can't we just have carpet like normal people?

In many ways I know I shouldn't be nervous about moving house, but this is a big deal. Hundreds of thousands of pounds of debt, phone bills, electricity, gas, furniture and boxes up to the ceiling all have to be organised/moved.

Still… only four days remaining and then it's happening. Friday the 27th August 2004 I collect the keys and move into my first home. My guts are in knots just thinking about it.

Categorised as: Ye Olde Blog