So much to do...so much to obsess about...and the two, of course, are mutually exclusive. As some of you pointed out in the comments on my last post, this five day cooling off period is killing me! Every time the phone rings, I think, they're pulling out. The surveyor came yesterday and I dogged the poor man's footsteps. 'Found anything yet? You're spending a long time there, nothing wrong is there? OMG, what's that?!' In the end, of course, he found only one major thing, which is the one we've lived with for five years and will fix if the buyers ask us to - on the other hand, they may just choose to live with it too.
And as for the job...yup, still waiting...torture, torture, torture.
In the meantime, it is left to Princess to provide you with amusement. Last night she woke up with a nose bleed. She chose not to rush to Mummy and Daddy to let them know, she chose to take care of it 'all by me self'. Which meant, instead of walking along the short corridor to our room and a waiting box of tissues, she took the long walk along the other corridor to the little loo for a roll of toilet paper. She showed me this morning how she'd cupped her hands to catch the blood, and the unfortunate little gap between them that she couldn't quite close. The toilet paper being judged inadequate, she walked back along the corridor, tottered down the stairs, still with her little cupped hands, and then realised she couldn't open the door to the family room, because she didn't want to get it all bloody from her hands. Thoughtful. So, instead, she took the long way round, through the formal lounge and dining room, still with her little cupped hands and quite the pool of blood in there by this time, and opened the sliding door with her foot. At which point she finally found a box of tissues that she felt met her requirements. She mopped up her nose, washed her hands. Then she went back to bed.
It was such a lovely surprise for Mummy and Daddy in the morning. A bloody trail leading throughout our home, along the corridor and back, weaving down the stairs, dribbling over all the white carpets...drips, handprints, footprints, the lot. It looks like a murder scene. (Princess was lucky that it didn't turn into one). And it's been a busy day of scrubbing for me.