About three months ago, when i decided that it was time to saddle up and get the hell outta Dodge, i took the precaution of booking the end of january as a holiday

I was thoroughly convinced that by now i'd've found my new luuuurve shack ... somewhere just up to the left of my own personal lucky star

As time passsed and assorted middens had been visited, evaluated and subsequently rejected, i came to realise that i just might have to get myself geared up for a mad rush where i'd be splitting my time between redecorating, visiting, redecorating, visiting, redecorating (rinse, wash, repeat three times)

Needless to say, this week hasn't gone anything like as planned

I started on Sunday afternoon with high hopes of getting it all knocked off by tea-time on tuesday

Five days later and counting - i'm still nowhere near finished :'((

Monday saw me piling up the furniture, covering up the portraits of the royal family and breaking out the paint brushes and rollers

On Tuesday, i almost get suckered into moving to the Sacré Coeur, in a nice appartment with the groovy view - i came sharply to my senses though, when the owner showed me the (shared) loos which were outside on the landing :-ô

On Wednesday, another owner explained that she'd never seen the need to fix a bit of plastic tubing to the down pipe for people who might, in an excentric pique of whimsy, wish to install a washing machine : "What on earth for ? There's a Lav'o'matic just next door, you see ?"

Yesterday, i came "this" close to signing up for a beautifully renovated, rustic looking studio, with wooden beams and old oak flooring
I really came "this" close until it struck me that the front door was a bit on the extremely poky side of narrow
So unfeasibly narrow was it, that i just couldn't imagine how on earth i'd squeeze anything past it (i know it's only a sofa, but me and Tita-nique have seen some things over these last few years)

* I'll just gloss over the story about how i arrived to visit one place, where, when i phoned the guy to say i was on site, he gleefully chirruped "Come on up, i'm on the sixth floor" ... but who, in an alzheimer moment, 'forgot' to add that he's on the sixth without a lift*

To compound things and to add to it all, my faithfull and profoundly adored companion, Lola, breathed her last breath

She was my north, my south, my east and my west
My working week and my sunday rest ...

Yup, with a tear in my eye and the release of a flurry of greatefull moths from my wallet, i've had to invest in a new laptop

T'never rains put it pours ...sometimes