Saturday, December 09, 2006

Dustbins, Not Rainbows

Not a good day today. Or at least it was a good day for Charles (and I am really happy for him, even though it might not sound like it here!) but it was definitely a sliding down the scale to zero day for me.

I hadn’t slept well at all – it's this flu bug sore throaty thing, I haven’t slept properly in over a week – and tiredness always makes me feel a bit low and depressed anyway, not a good start to the day! But in spite of being knackered we dragged ourselves out of bed early in order to go and view a potential flat in Richmond.

The flat was lovely. It was roomy and light, decorated all in white, which made it feel fresh. It was bigger than Charles’ current poky little room, this one even had a bathtub (woo hoo!) and a separate kitchen. And a window that opened and actually let in daylight (woo hoo again!). No more living like a trog in a darkened pit for Charlieboy! Hopefully it would be quiet, too, as it was on the top floor of the house with carpets and cupboards between it and its nearest neighbours.


After a bit of umming and ahhing, and a wander through the High Street to test how long the walk to the station would be, he decided he definitely would take the flat. The only problem was the deposit. How anyone ever manages to move to new rental accommodation I have no idea, as you hand out a big deposit to your landlord and then you can’t get it back again for the next property until you’ve already moved (and that's assuming your landlord does return it rather than keep it in lieu of replacing the crappy cheap shower that fell apart just two days after you moved in). You need several thousand pounds spare at any one moment if you’re to juggle two deposits – and who on earth has that to spare except for people who own their own houses and don’t need rental deposits anyway? So, helpful me piped up with the fact that I could use my two overdrafts to lend Charles the deposit. Sorted. And down we went to the estate agents to sign up for the flat.

But as Charles and the estate agent were talking I was suddenly hit with the realisation that, because I was being so helpful with lending him the deposit, he would not after all be coming to stay with me… even for a week, let alone my hoped for few months or more. It was all I could do not to burst into tears. I could see Charles and the estate agent looking at me sideways, obviously wondering why my face had suddenly gone all pink and sniffly! (I blame my tiredness and flu-i-ness... I like to think I would have remained a little more composed had I been well!)

But anyway, over-emotional girly reaction aside, what it comes down to is… if I was a mean person and had refused to help out I would have got exactly what I wanted, which is Charles to sleep with and chat to in bed at night, and to wake up next to in the morning, and to go food shopping for, and to cook for, and make the house look nice for, and all those saddo things which I actually enjoy because I’m a saddo… but because I was trying to be helpful I lost out and will get none of that nice stuff. Let alone a bit of rent which, being honest, would have been bloody helpful right now! Aaaargh!

Life is for sliding down rainbows, my arse! Life is for getting into a dustbin and putting the lid on! Hrmph!

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