We drove past our new flat today. There’s an estate agents board out the front which says SOLD… and for once, I’m looking at those words and knowing it means the place is ours. Bar the formalities.
That’s an incredibly peculiar feeling. Apart from several brief, abortive periods of moving away to my own place, I’ve lived in this house for just over 19 years. Which is the bigger part of my life. Even worse, I’ve never really liked this house, or the street, or the neighbours. It’s a long time to be living somewhere you don’t like.
I’m pretty sure I won’t be living in the new place that long, whether I like it or not. Just on a point of principle, as much as anything else. I believe people should move a lot. Spending longer than ten years in one place seems like stagnation to me. Maybe I’d feel differently if I hadn’t spent most of my life in a house I dislike…