Now this is where things get a little strange for me, yesterday it was all Yay, we´ve bought a house, lets celebrate, woo hoo, isn´t life just fantastic
The morning after, in the cold light of day, it is Oh My God, we´ve bought a house, what are we going to do, have we just made the biggest mistake of our lives!
Its mazing what a difference 12 hours and a bottle of wine can make.
But I did this each we bought a house in France, so I am getting a little more used to it, and the panic attacks don´t feel like full blown heart attacks any more (hell, that is not something to be blasé about is it!)
But we are stood in our new empty, cavernous, dirty and derelict house, I am getting far to old for this, why didn´t we just buy a little villa on the Algarve?
Because that is not us, we buy the big derelict house and turn it in to a dream, though looking round that now seems a little unrealistic, was John right, had I chose this house just because I was panicking and time was running out? Or am I just having a bit of a panic now as it all seems very overwhelming.
Time will tell