So, after my ABJECT FAILURE to find us a house… whenever that was that I last went to Utrecht (longer ago than I can remember, which means not yesterday or the day before), DrBob set up another appointment with Makler Matt (I’ve decided to call him Makler Matt because it makes me giggle), and he may have found something. I’d love to post a link here so y’all can see what it looks like, but the link contains the actual address, and we might one day move in there, and what if I were to get a stalker at some point? So if you want to see the pictures, let me know and I will email you the link if I am pretty sure you are not a stalker.
ANYWAY. When we looked together, we had all the same objections to all the houses, except I was all, “well, maybe we could live with (the smell/not enough rooms/no yard/scary DIY wiring/what is that? Carpet? Or mildew?)…” and he was all, “hell to the no, for a half a million, I want to be sure.” Which means we were basically in agreement, he’s just a tad pickier than I am, which in turn means I can trust him to pick something that’d be okay with me, and the reverse is not true.
So he found a house. He likes it. He thinks I’ll like it. That’s good enough for me, but no, he insists that I actually see it and approve it and promise never ever to say or even think “How could you inflict this hideous house on me I hate you forever,” which I would never do but try telling him that. So we have to get up there.
Now you may not have noticed, but all the other times I went up there were during school holidays. The next one of those is in August, which is when we were hoping to move, so we can’t wait. I’ll have to leave Ignatz alone and trust him to get himself fed and to school, and the Sniglet will have to stay with the Oompas and be driven to school every day which is a HUGE nuisance, plus some of you may remember that it’s crunch-time at work. Upshot = there is no good time to go, so we’re thinking we should just get it over with and go TOMORROW. Ack. I used to be spontaneous, I used to do stuff like that all the time, but you know, then I had kids.
Sigh. So tomorrow morning we’ll check for a last-minute cheapo flight to Amsterdam, but if we don’t find one, we’re driving. And I wish this could be fun, because I used to love road trips, but this time it’s all haste and pressure and meh.
And after all this, I damn well better like that house when I see it.
Song du jour of the day: I’m Shipping up to Boston, by the Dropkick Murphys.