Looks like it may be the end times for this place of residence. The owner has decided to sell and as a consequence I’m living in some limbo land…how I hate renting. One is never truly sure when the landlord will turf you out. I wish now that I didn’t spend so much over the last year, I might be in a better position to buy, although if I asked the banks I’m sure they’ll be more than too happy to loan me a couple of hundred grand. But is that what I really want? It seems like a heavy commitment, one which I’m averse to for some reason. I want somewhere I can secure myself in without worrying about when I’ll have to leave or when real estate leeches will come to have a sticky beak but at the same time I don’t want to be tied down to something for twenty years. Well nothing is certain or absolute, instead of real estate agents it’ll be banks so the only real advantage to having a mortgage is the false sense of security that it buys.

I worry perhaps a little too much, for all I know it’ll sell and the new owner will have a ready made tenant. At worst…I have to find a new place to live. My laziness screams and squirms at the prospect of having to pack up shop. Outrage! “How dare they sell our home!” it screams into the empty caverns of a lonesome void.

Every time I think of the prospect of having to move I’m filled with a sense of dread and anger. It’s just too melodramatic and in the end it’s just tough shit! Get over it. “But Ma I don’t want to leave.” “Stop it…you’re just gonna have to whether you like it or not!” “Awww Maaa…Maaa. Ma!”

But then again this place is a dump and I must be crazy for staying this long.

Just can’t win can I?

</ end rant>