We painted and cleaned and tidied and polished and decorated all day. The communal bits look gorgeous, and the place looks finished, finally. The valuer is coming over later today. The experience with GFG was the final straw. We had been prevaricating about moving anyway, but I cannot live with anyone else under my roof, knowing there is such animosity and a complete lack of neighbourliness there. I hope a fat, galumphing DJ who plays heavy metal and owns a Rottweiler buys our flat.
I plan to remove the plants from the garden I cultivated (as long as they aren't damaged in the process) and will take away the garden furniture and nice things we have put there, when we eventually move. GFG – despite being a (total) banker – pays for sod all, won't contribute, I imagine, to the paint and soil and plants and time we have expended, so fuck her. And she doesn't want to communicate with us "You can write to me if you think I need to have insurance". So, she can go swivel on a sharp stick.
Yes, I am still very annoyed. Not so much that it is eating at me, but enough that I am in 'no going back territory', even if she apologises (which I doubt very much).
Kung fu was excellent and I slept like a dream. It was shocking to have to get up at seven this morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment