Spent a couple of hours this evening sipping strong filter coffee and nibbling at a rock cake, contemplating a series of expensive houses on t’internet and thinking – jesus, this is the calm before the storm.
At the moment I am invisible to the estate agents, but tomorrow I must stop putting off the inevitable. To ignore it any longer is to invite getting my current residence sold out from under me and find myself deposited back in the unwilling arms of the parentals. That is not good ju-ju, not by any means, so yes, the only answer is to pick up the phone and start baiting these clowns. Get real visible as a potential chain-free client with a bag of website money burning a hole in my pocket. It’s going to be open season.
From tomorrow, I will be afraid to pick up the phone, lest it be some scraggly yoot from Foxtons looking to pick my pockets, but for tonight I still have some peace. So I’m sitting here drinking this coffee and listening to the wind bash the windows, watching my phone blink silently and not feeling all that bad. Any fast movement could provoke danger, but maybe if I keep real still, things will be alright for a while.
Good luck with those fiends man. If I can be of any help, just give them my French mobile number and I’ll go off on one and demand bathrooms with inbuilt dairy farms. Otherwise, nice one for keeping the bolo flag flying for the last couple of months. I intend to chip in some banter soon. BO!