The Stress Factor


I genuinely wish that above picture was me. I feel about ready to crawl in a box and make a fortress out of it under a bridge and pretend I am a troll. Really it would be far better than moving.

I’m going to keep this brief. If my partner catches me blogging and not packing I’m going to be executed in some gruesome, highland games manner. The Scottish can be so unreasonable at times. I’m digressing, so the saga of my move so far:

– Two months ago we receive news that we’re being kicked out. This is due to a law that lets Landlords kick out their tenants for no reason. Normally it should be use to get rid of people who aren’t paying the rent, causing upset in the community around them or are just destroying the property. In reality landlords use it to kick tenants, who are paying their rent, council tax and utilities on time and who also get on very well with their neighbours, out to either increase the rent or sell up. That’s Britain for you. We don’t have laws to protect peoples rights, just their liquid interests (you may or may not have notice I’m a little bit sore with this subject).

– We found a flat and started packing two weeks ago. The place is twenty pounds cheaper a month and bigger than our place we’re in now. We start sorting out the details of the move and get paperwork in order for the landlord.

– With six days to go before we have to be out the landlord of the new flat tells us that we don’t meet the criteria to move in. This makes no sense as he hadn’t seen any of the paperwork to prove we could afford the place and also was leading us on by continuously telling us he couldn’t meet us on an certain day he’d arranged but would meet us on the next day.

– I spent a day crying non-stop.

– With four days to go one of my workmates finds me a landlord with a flat. We go see it and it’s surprisingly nice. Smaller and move expensive than where we are now but nice.

– We accept and get the keys two days before the final moving out date.

– I now have today and tomorrow to move everything out and I only have a van to move furniture and heavy boxes filled with books and DVD’s with tomorrow.

– I am stressed and wish to be a troll.

I’m going to leave it there. So if you don’t hear from me in a while then look under a bridge. If you see a cardboard fortress with a girl who’s painted herself grey and screaming about those silly goats then you’ve find me.


2 thoughts on “The Stress Factor

  1. I know how it feels to have to move, the process is frustrating, exhausting and just plain blah! Seriously if I never see or pack another box in my life I’ll be glad!!!!

  2. I’m sorry I couldn’t help with your move, Kitters. I was… well, you know where I was.

    I have moved house 25 times in my life, and it is getting on my nerves, especially since it seems likely that I will have to move AT LEAST twice more before I’m done breathing in and out. So I speak from a great deal of experience when I say “Ouch!”

    I hope everything worked out in the end.

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