Lucky

This last week has been ridiculous!

Monday:

The flat is nearing completion. We have a few forms to sign, posted backed with wet ink, await confirmation; everything is coming together. The regular calls to the solicitors and estate agents ensue. At this moment, it's more frustration than anything else. It's been 5 months and this is already starting to get tedious for everyone involved. 2:34pm I get a phone call from my estate agent. "Hello Aaron, I hope you're ok. The buyers want to move in on Wednesday". I would like to write the expletives I used, but my blog would probably be shut down. Wednesday is two days away, I'm working shifts and have a whole flat to pack. I laughed at the impossibility and ridiculousness of the request. Not to mention, I have all my ducks in a row. The buyers don't. Why all this pressure?! Isn't it bad enough they already wrote me a letter prior to ask me to move out because they are in temporary accommodation! Legally, they aren't supposed to have any contact with me. They were cheeky enough to come to my residence and to know I wasn't home.

Tuesday:

At work, my phone is vibrating in my pocket something crazy. I look down at 5 missed calls from my solicitor. He never calls me. I take a quick 5 in the cold, dark, concrete hallway. The reception is ropey, so the conversation is pacing a little staccato. "Hey Aaron, listen. We can complete on your time frame but let me know what's viable". At this point I'm supposed to be working Wednesday, off Thursday, off Friday but that's Benjamin's wedding. Plus, I have a doctors appointment in the morning. How could I possibly move this week?!

"2nd of November we need to aim for. I don't want to take anymore time off work"

"I completely understand Aaron. Let's aim for them. Sit back, relax, I'll take care of the rest."

Wednesday:

"Aaron, the buyers of your place have been made homeless and are in temporary accommodation (which I may add, we already knew). They are wondering if you could move out, so they don't have to pay rent?" Firstly, (and harshly) that's not my problem nor any of my business. Secondly, and probably more importantly, "when do they want this to happen?"

"Friday if possible, Aaron". This is the second time I've been given 48hours notice. My head starts pounding. If I make this happen, I need to arrange movers, pack, load up the van, go to my doctors appointment, hand over keys, pick up new keys, head to the new place, unload the van, go back to Saul's, get dressed for the wedding, go mingle for a couple hours, then home. Sunday through to Thursday, I'm working. Mostly late shifts too. I'd be living in chaos! Black spots started to appear in front of my eyes, I felt dizzy and little faint. I slid my back down the wall of the corridor and sat on the floor hugging my knees into my chest.

"Aaron? Aaron?! Are you there? Can you hear me?!"

I forgot I was on the on phone; "absolutely not. I cannot make that work. I have commitments. Commitments if I don't meet, results in the sale failure".

"I understand, Aaron".

Do you?! Do you really?! If you did, would you be asking me this? My demons were raised from hell. You placed the keys in between the gaps of my fingers, clutching the chest really tight to my heart, you allowed the demons in. Every negative thought I had, went south. I was anxious, frustrated, angry, annoyed, in pain, and under pressure. These people are probably lying about being homeless, but I couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to help. Just in case they were telling the truth.

"Ok, Barry, can we exchange today and complete on Friday?". Barry paused and took a sharp intake of breath. "Yeah, we can. That's tight though, Aaron. Not for me, but I know your work schedule is inflexible".

"Yeah it is, but if you can do it, let's see if I can".

"That's all fair and well, but if you fail there will be fines in place. Are you sure you want to take this risk?"

"Let's do it".

"Ok, I'll get the paperwork ready, we'll exchange today. Keep the line free, I'll call you in a few".

Thursday:

Barry didn't call me yesterday. That means we didn't exchange. Which means the clock is ticking. If it doesn't happen today, no one is moving anywhere tomorrow.

9am. "Hello I need to book movers for tomorrow morning. Do you have anything available?". At this point, I've spoken to 5 moving companies, all of which basically laughed in my face. I was sweating. This is going to be impossible. I had to remind myself, the day is young. Keep calling. In between and on phone calls, I'm checking my emails. I'm at Saul's, the clock is ticking, I'm waiting for news, waiting to get the all clear, finish packing, ready for Friday morning 7am sharp. The palpitations at this point are permanent. Frantically scrolling through google to find a moving company I haven't called yet, wishing the universe just bless me with some luck. National Movers, perfect. They do next day too! YES! Hourly rate of £55 an hour, this is perfect. Right. Booked. Massive risk because I still haven't got the call from my solicitors that we've exchanged. Tired of waiting and knowing I have so much work to do, I leave Saul's and head back to my old place. I needed the focus, tunnel vision of doing a task. I need to ignore the noise, it's going to deafen me, I'll break, I'll cry. I hate everything right now. Work, this flat, these cheeky estate agents, my solicitors.

3hours in, Saul is here. We are both just packing things in silence. And there's a lot left to do, but we've done a lot too. My phone, which I set to silent apart from three contact numbers, starts to ring. My heart sinks slightly, but skips beats with anticipated enjoyment.

"Hello?"

"Hey Aaron, we've exchanged, mate. We are set to complete tomorrow".

I sit in my dusty settee, head in my hand. I'm happy this is coming to a close. But we aren't done. Tomorrow is a HUGE day. We spend until midnight packing everything up. Up at 5:30am to prepare for these movers at 7am. Tonight isn't even over. We need to get the dogs back to Saul's and I need to drive back here in the morning.

Friday:

Me and Saul are in the car driving to Surrey. I'm awake, but exhausted. Honestly, I have no idea how I'm standing. My emotional state is fragile, my mental is fragile, I'm back to borrowing from the universe for strength. We are about 20mins away, I get a call from the movers. They are 10mins away. Face palm. I'm going to be late to let them in. The clock will start as soon as they arrive. Saul steps on the gas, we are meandering through Surrey's empty morning dew streets with a little skid here and there. I arrive, Saul drops me off and bounces. I'm waiting for the van that should have been here already. An hour later, they show up. "What happened to you?", I ask.

"We brought the wrong van. We needed a bigger truck".

Inhale. Slowly, exhale.

It takes them 4hours to pack the truck. 12:30 on the dot, we are done. The movers drive to my new place. Three things need to happen, in the following order, before any keys get handed over. 1). I need confirmation funds have cleared. 2). I need to hand the new keys over to the new owners. 3). I need to pick up my keys.

12:45 the new owners are here to collect keys. Neither of us have confirmation. Great. This is awkward. It's almost like I'm dangling a carrot and pulling it away every time they try to reach for it. I call everybody, all I keep getting told to sit tight. I'm paying these movers by the hour and sand keeps trickling. An hours passes and funds still haven't cleared. The new owners have their moving van show up. No one can do anything. Another hour goes by, still no clearance. That's two hours I had to pay for them to do nothing. I had the new owners the keys, they started moving their stuff in. I congratulated them and left. I was starving, I hadn't eaten since yesterday. And now. I was homeless. I went back to Saul's to eat left over Chinese. Another hour goes by before I get the call to collect the keys. I fly to the estate agents, pick up the keys, go to my new flat and start unloading. We finished unloading at 7pm. 11hours later and £1k down. But the day is far from over. In the chaos, I have to find my tux, and head to a wedding.

When Saul and I got back to his flat, we literally went straight to bed. It was a beautiful end to the night. I saw some very good friends I haven't seen in a while. I got to see Benjamin really happy with his new husband. I had Saul by my side, I love him so much i feel like i could burst. I'm so lucky to have what I have. Be able to live in London on my own, buy this nice flat, I have the job I do, getting paid enough to sustain living in this expensive city. I feel overwhelmed with pride, luck, and sadness. There is still one thing that isn't right. Work. The source of my unhappiness is there.

I hate work. I want out so bad. I just don't know how to do it. Or have the strength. I think this will break me. When this year started, something told me it was going to be a tough year. I didn't realise it would be this hard. I'm more than grateful for my life, but. Some of the gifts I've been given aren't for me. How do I exchange it and still keep happy? Do I take a leap of faith and just see what happens? Even if my colleagues have never believed in me?