At about this point, I was starting to feel under pressure about housing. Probably just hormones again, right? Wrong! I was anxiously checking the housing online system every day and on this day, it just so happened to have gone through, woo, we’re getting a house! Wait, are we? Wrong again! Placed in category D, the lowest category, for wanting to simply live independently. I’m sorry, did I not mention the growing child in my uterus that inevitably will make its departure one day and probably require a home to live in. Oh that’s right, I did mention it, but I’m sure the little one would be just as fine crawling about the streets. I’ll make a moses basket out of some bubble wrap and somebody’s recycling bin, shall I?
A few phone calls later resulting in tears, I’d abandoned us finding a place at all and had to be brought to sanity again by the other half. We looked at a few private rent properties and figured we might as well go see a few, signed up for some viewings and began thinking about going down that road. And god I’m so glad we did, because by this point we had seen a nice two bedroom house that was nice enough inside, perfect size and didn’t have all the crap fees needed to move in. The day later, deposit was down and two weeks later – we had the keys to our very own place!
Things were actually coming together by this point (..and by coming together, I mean getting scarier – the next step is actually having this baby!?)
Just in case anyone is reading this and they’re at the ‘pregnant and looking for our own place’ stage in their life, paying bills is not fun. It’s depressing and soul destroying and the only consolation is that you have a roof over your head and place to call your own.