I have been feeling in a state of limbo just lately. I have five weeks until the ladyfriend and I fly up/across to Amsterdam, I have a kitchen in Eastbourne that looks like the Somme, Christmas I am told is 98 days away and now outside the sun has a huge sombrero on. I am teetering on the brink of excitement. I feel like an amateur production of swan lake. I feel as though I am waiting in the wings ready to launch on to stage but there's a fat lady with a moustache and a clip board holding me back.
The ladyfriend feels just the same. We are powerless with the kitchen saga as there are links in chains and finances dictate that we can't thumb the yellow pages until November. So we have to trundle on with horse hair sticking out of the walls and flat packs strewn everywhere....they say it will be all over by Christmas - but which bloody one?
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