Unclean! Unclean!

When I was filled with the youthful joys of the world (i.e. a few years ago) estate agents (realtors) were considered somewhat slimey. Indeed, my family’s experience with them left me thinking that dealing with Estate Agents was somewhat like diving headlong into a bucket of jellied eels.

Dealing with estate agents was an experience wont to make you wash yourself clean afterwards.

Oddly though, their obsequeous nature appears to have vaporised. I presume this is because houses more or less sell themselves, and the job of the estate agent is now to simply extract money from you – not to actually put any effort into finding houses for you or anything silly like that, because you’ll find the house using the internet, turn up, view it and buy it or not. They are now glorified typists – putting houses on the market at ridiculously insane prices (entering their details on their website) and then creaming off a huge chunk of the money.

*sigh*

Anyway, dealing with them today left me feeling frustrated, annoyed and completely demotivated.  Well, that and dealing with my favourite government deparment again. Oh, and the NHS. *sigh*

I don’t really have any energy and this just saps what little there is right out of me. Like a fracking vampire.

Work makes me tired

So, even when I’m fine, I just have to start working on my disertation, my EU packs, my assignments and I’m hit by a wave of tiredness. I know it’s psychological – I know it’s because I just want these 3 years to be over and done with. But I’m so tired. So tired.

I felt okay, although I’m still pissed about the house. I really want to go looking, but finding the enthusiasm and time is hard… time’s the worst. Bloody time. I need more of it. Lots more.

Well, that was quick.

So, that house I found yesterday. They let me out early today – the ward’s closed (again) so I was down to two patients awaiting scans…

So, having handed over I dashed home, hit the Land Register, and found the owner of the house. I managed (using a phone directory and a distinctive name) to find the owner’s phone number (he’s moved since he bought it). Rang him and he’s… in.

Sadly, my run of good fortune ended there. He doesn’t want to sell, the property was bought for redevelopment… 6 flipping years he’s had it, surely it’s someone elses turn? Ah well. Still, for 4 quid I’ve found out that that is not to be my house. If anyone else can coax him into selling :-/

So, the hunt is back on. I’m a bit disappointed (not really suprised though)… I’d’ve liked it to be that easy. And I could really see potential in that property. Never mind.

House…

Maybe if I sneak up on it, it’ll still be for sale.

I spent the morning exploring a potential house; well, more strugling to make my way through the brambles and half-arsed fencing to see what sort of state the house is in. I found it entirely by accident, while looking at something else (which it turns out has had planning permission for conversion into two dinky little properties) – and although there doesn’t actually seem to have been any progress on that, I suspect that (having looked at planning permission proposals) they’re a bit picky about what it’s used for.

But while I was out there, I found a little (big, actually) house which appears to be abandoned. Indeed, it looks ripe for, well, being mine. However, it gets confusing after that – it appears that the ‘extension’ is infact an entire separate building, potentially owned by someone else entirely. It’s a bit difficult to tell; the land-register map (which I saw a less informative version of while I was discovering about that planning permission I mentioned); well; that indicated it was all one property. But the land register website has it split into two.

At any rate, neither bit is being lived in. Not unless it’s being lived in by someone who likes crawling through brambles and has no furniture / likes all their furniture piled in a rotting heap.

It would need *lots* of work, I suspect. I’m certainly thinking – new flat roof, potentially work on the tiled roof, some damp, some drainage stuff. It’ll never be worth a fortune because it’s location sucks. But it could be worth as much as I put in, possibly a bit more, if the owner wants to sell.

I would like the owner to sell, but I can’t find out any more details until…  Oooh, just tried the business registed as being in the ‘extension’ – their number doesn’t work. Woo. I’m feeling a bit frustrated because the land registry isn’t ‘open’ today. Their website only does land registry details monday to saturday 7am-midnight. How bizzare and broken is that? I can’t make sense of that – if it was ‘business’ hours, well, then it’d be simple. It’s someone sat at a terminal physically dealing with incoming requests – fair enough ‘cos it’s probably still got a lot of paper based stuff.

But… 7 – 12mn? That’s completely bizzare.

Anyway, when I get home tomorrow I’ll have to have a looksie.

It’s still frustrating though. Especially because I expect it’s outside my pricerange, but I don’t *know* until I ask. Looking at properties around the area – they’re cheap. They’re not affordable to me anyway cheap, but they’re nearly there. And properties for renovation away from the main road fall into my pricerange…. just.

But yes. I want to do stuff, and it’s the weekend, and gaaargh. And I’m working all next week. Gaaack.

Does anyone else feel about 7?

So, I’m thinking after my WBLD tomorrow I could stop in at a few estate agents, see what’s going around a couple of the areas I’m considering. But I find it all a bit scary. I will, I should think, assuming I remember to actually think about it tomorrow; but I find myself feeling about 7 years old.

How can I possibly be looking at houses? How can I be involved in something so adult. I find it terribly alien and bizzare; and frankly terrifying. I don’t really feel like an adult; and yet here I am… I keep expecting someone to notice and say “no, Kate, now these are adult things, go back to playing with your Barbie”.

Is it just me…?

In other news I listened to the first of the CDs from Rachel today, and it was really, phenominally good. It actually had me dancing *after* my shift on the way back to the car – and distracted me so much I actually walked to where I normally park, not where the car *actually* was. I’ve forgotten the name of it (typical) but I shall share with you all :-)

Oh, and I’ve started to get quite a taste for Reeses Peanutbutter Cups. I was getting some odd looks at work today though; I think my reputation as the ‘odd lunch girl’ is starting to spread again.

Anime news: Up to Ep 14 of Noir now.
Other news: Bought a new (high capacity) battery for my iPaq; the idea of actually being able to take it places appealed. Have my eye on a PCMCIA sleeve with a new battery in it; if I get that, and a big CF card, and a PCMCIA -> CF adaptor then I’ll be laughing – I’ll finally be able to finish installing my GPS software, and I can *also* install the Europe stuff, so as I can actually tour Europe dans le mog. Which I quite fancy. If I’m going to be stuck in Britain for 2 years I’m going to enjoy it :-) But *also* it means that I can stick *music* on my iPaq. Music. Joy of Joys. I’ll have a decent MP3 player :-)

You may all go ‘woot’ now.

Incidentally, my high quality hosting – provided by Zest Host has been down… again. My apologies.

Sore, achey, lazy tart

So, I’ve not worked today.

Why? Well… errr. No good reason. I meant to, I really did, then I got sucked into Livejournal, then I noticed that my copy of Series One of the Fast Show’d arrived, so I watched an episode of that… Awww. Ted and Ralph. Awww.

My hands have been driving me nuts recently; they’ve been very painful as is pretty common with me when I’m typing too much. And when I was practicing the guitar they were complaining. I don’t know if it’s because I’m tired, but the other thought which occured to me was that maybe it was the awful posture and positioning enforced by the arms on my officechair. I’ve been thinking for ages – I don’t like them and I don’t want them. It’s my chair… so I removed them today. And y’know what, it’s way better. I curl up a lot – which is part of my awful posture – but I never could with the chair the way it was. It also forced me to sit a distance I found incredibly uncomfortable from the desk (the arms’d hit the desk). Of course, now I’ve become aware just how twisted I’ve been sitting – especially because my monitor’s at an angle. So now I’m sat at an incredible angle to the desk to get ‘comfortable’. I think I need to change this layout though. It’s already driving me insane. But my hands are hurting less already.

At least I got enough sleep. Yesterday I really felt so tired, so tired I didn’t feel able to do anything. Today I feel more or less human; oh and I’ve got half a Pizza for dinner. Woot!

My package made it to Alaska, which rocks. And I’ve got a big ‘ol letter to reply to, music to listen to on the way to work, And half a ton of American chocolate to eat. Muuuh. The world is good :-)

The news, incidentally, that I was alluding to yesterday is my plan to buy a house. When my dad died, it turned out that the many and various pensions he’d accrued over the years – and which kept my family in near bankruptcy for years – and which meant that he’d never have had the money to live on – because they were all such a mess. Well, they all paid out when he died, because he died so young.

Despite attempts to persuade her otherwise, my mum doesn’t want the money, but I’m not allowed to just have it because I will just give it to friends, I’ll spend it on crap, I’ll waste it. So it’s to go on a house. It makes me sad, because I know how much my dad would have loved doing up a house with me – and he knew this stuff so well. He could have designed a central heating system and put it in in his sleep. Ring mains? He knew how to design complete electrical systems for houses. He just knew it.

And we used to be quite the family team; my dad designing, building and prepping, me building and fixing and prepping and my mum painting and doing the interior design. And we all enjoyed it. And now, well, it’s just going to be me – my mum’s too ill to do it, and my dad’s dead. It’s funny the things that make you cry, isn’t it?

So I’m really going to miss him doing this. But.

My original plan was just to save the money ’til I went to Canada – but the realisation that it’d be 2 (at least) years of living in shitty accomodation I can barely afford; of being completely broke in a house I probably won’t like. So I suddenly thought, I can probably afford a house in need of renovation – especially at auction, so I think we’ll go that way. Think? Know. Well. I’m going to pop round ‘state agents, maybe this weekend, and see. Well, after I’ve stared at a map. Either that or on Friday. If I can will myself to look ‘neat’ at my Work Based Learning Day. It’d probably make more sense, then I can go get a Police Uniform on Saturday before getting on with work. And I’ve got lots of work to do. Behind? I’ve barely started. And this morning’s not helped.

I keep going to lean on the arms on the chair. It’s very odd, but much better now they’re not here. So that’s me news.