I’m sat here today unable to concentrate on anything. Every time my phone pings I jump in the hope that it’s a message or email from either the estate agent or our solicitor. I am literally on the edge of my seat and getting nothing done as a result.
I’m someone who likes to be in control and get things done. When a job needs doing I crack on and do it. No faffing around. But, I’m utterly useless when things are out of my control. And that’s exactly where things are now.
We’re in the middle of the house buying process. Our offer was accepted, our mortgage is arrange and we have the deposit all in place. The searches have all come back without any problems and even the full building survey failed to tell us anything that we didn’t know already. The property is empty. We’re in rented accommodation. It’s a probate sale and there’s no chain.
It should all be straightforward from here. But it isn’t. And right now there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.
I am desperate to move. Utterly desperate. This flat is far too small for all of us and I’m simply sick and tired of tripping over stuff when ever I try to move in here. I want to be able to give my kids a bedroom each again. I’ve had enough of paying money for storage for most of my furniture and boxes of stuff and I really, really want to be reunited with some of my possessions, that I haven’t seen for months.
Emotionally I’m also ready to move on. Staying here was only supposed to be temporary and I need to move to the next chapter or my life. Of my new family life.
The school Easter holidays are fast approaching and we need to have more space by then. Need to. I’ve told everyone that. The estate agent and our solicitor. There’s just one person that I have no control over and that’s the vendor’s solicitor. And that’s where the whole process seems to be stuck at the moment.
I can see no reason for any legal hold up. Nor can our solicitor. The estate agent can see no reason for any logistical hold up, and he says neither can the vendors. We’ve signed all the contracts and other paperwork and our deposit is already with our solicitor.
That’s all I feel I can do at the moment. Wait. Patiently.
The problem is that I’ve discovered I’m not very good at being patient.
I want to crack on and do things. I want a definite moving date in the diary so I can pack boxes, plan electricians and get quotes for replacement windows. I want to get in there and start cleaning and decorating. I want to start exploring the house and garden and start making plans for what we want to do with them. I want to move.
But all I can do is wait And hope that it won’t be for much longer.