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Monday, April 06, 2009

karma's a bitch... or, cleaning up your act


One Monday morning my bosses asked me to resign. I can't go into specifics here, but I suddenly found myself without a job. Luckily and by coincidence, I had arranged to go for an interview that very same morning and by the next Monday I was back at work; a new one, that is.

Yes, I had been naughty at work, but I felt that my bosses could have given me a second chance and a chance to try and fix what I had messed up. Never mind, the new job pays more and in the end I suppose that's the most important thing.

Meanwhile, our landlord let us know that he would not be renewing our lease. Big surprise, since we had not paid our final month's rent. How else were we going to get back our deposit? And so it was we started looking for a new home and a furniture removal company. After our last move, we had come to the conclusion that we would rather sell our bodies and get professionals than to have to move every piece of crappy furniture we own down three flights of stairs ourselves again.

The house hunting went as well as can be expected and with only two weeks to spare we found a nice, if a little weird, cottage that was not too expensive and not too far from my new work. We also got a cheap removal company (won't do that again) and we moved into our new slightly odd little place.

Our bedroom and single bathroom are at the bottom this time, and the kitchen-dining room-living room and balcony on top. But our dogs have a large piece of property to run around on and do their business on, and we have full use of the gigantic swimming pool since our elderly landlord couple don't use it at all. Most afternoons, we go for a walk with the dogs around the block. Heavenly.

We've settled down and we are ironing out the few hiccups as we go along. For instance, the connections for the washing machine are in the bathroom downstairs, but the machine can't fit through the door. We have it in the kitchen now, with yards and yards of joined pipes to get water from the taps by the kitchen sink. The DSTV decoder still has to be moved with yards of aerial extensions from its precarious perch on the arm of the sofa to the TV on the other side of the room.

But, despite these and other little problems, we love it here. No more spiteful, callous barbarians slamming doors, shouting, laughing and blaring music at all hours. We've never slept so soundly.

The view from our balcony is simply spectacular, especially at night.

And we are happy.