Tenancies and Turbos

Yet again, things are forming a pattern. No matter how much we like to think that our lives are different, no matter how many changes we make, patterns occur, actions repeat and events follow previous programmes. About a month ago I was hobbling round on 2 sticks making a rather convincing Hunchback impression. Not only that, I was the proud owner of antibiotics for a nasty UTI. Things were not in a good place – I was stressed, tired, ill and out of sorts. Tom and I were just out of the 2 weeks  cooped up together after I’d been ill over Christmas. But, like most things, it got better. We went back to work, chilled out, swam, ran. Things got back to normal and we started thinking about finding somewhere to live when both our tenancy agreements (helpfully) ended in April. Odd fact Number 1: both our tenancy agreements end on April 8th. Coincidence or fate? I’m undecided.

I’m not allowed to go to IKEA alone…probably a good thing.

We have been half heartedly looking for houses and flats, occasionally playing the “If we won the Lottery” game and then seeing sense and putting it on hold because things change in the world of renting and the market for nice and affordable places shifts quicker than Donald Trump’s toupee in a high wind. The last time I moved in with someone it was an odd situation – not a bad one but one we were not ready for. This time, neither of us can wait. We have been fantasising about being able to leave all our bathroom things in the bathroom rather than cart them in pockets each time we have a shower – ditto on the toilet roll. In a shared house, toilet roll is a hot commodity, especially if it is half decent stuff. Echoes of student housing have been strong in the house and our weekend escapes to my flat have been essential in keeping our sanity.

The patterns I was talking about? We found a flat and before it was our day to view it, it was taken. Then I end up back in hospital on industrial amounts of gas and air after my back muscles spasmed just by getting into the car. Not only did I have to miss my ParkRun, I also missed getting my winter fur (legs) removed. Poor Tom had a Saturday ruined, by my screaming, by a hospital trip and by the subsequent feebleness of my back, hips and legs. To make matters worse, I have yet another course of antibiotics…for the same UTI as I had a month ago. Something tells me my body is having its own issues and patterns and I’d like it to break the cycle thankyouplease.

However, there is an upside to all this doom and gloom. We have found a flat we both like. It has the pre-requisite 2 bedrooms (one for us, one for the bikes – clearly). It had a kitchen with more than one slimline base and wall unit but not shared with 7 other people (and it has a gas stove). We even have a living room with a real fire-place (with gas effect fire) that we are allowed to use. Add to that our own entrance, a bit of space so I can finally grow sunflowers, sweet peas and have herbs by the door and the icing on the cake of a designated parking space. The best bit? It’s ours. The holding deposit went in today and we should be moving in over the Easter weekend.

So last night, when I started writing this on the sofa, swaddled in blankets, a hoody, a hot water bottle and my scarf, I saw a glimpse into the future. Tom had set up his turbo trainer in front of the TV and over the noise was watching the first season of CSI. It isn’t an unpleasant noise, just one I’ve come to know and find oddly comforting. In the new place the turbo will be in the spare room on tarpaulin, along with my sewing machine so I can FINALLY get started on the patchwork quilt my mother bought me to make about 2 years ago. The flash forward went a little like this: Tom in the spare room on the turbo, I am in the living room or kitchen doing something else, or I’ve gone for a run or swim. We finish, have a drink, we carry on with life together. It is a mundane flash forward but one I am looking forward to being in the moment with.

For the mean time, the pattern is oddly familiar. My back is painful so I am on a course of investigation. I need to convince the doctors to get me a scan to find out what is wrong. We need to start thinking about packing (although Tom is convinced I’m worrying too much about it and “it can be done on the day” – we’ll see about that). Lists of things to do, stuff to sell that I can’t take with me, brothers to cajole into helping on the moving weekend and probably a few more hundred things that I cannot bring myself to think about. Just yet. Still…things are moving in the right direction, for us both. The patterns and changes we make are never going to change – but our reactions to them might. I’m beginning to think that the old adage of “change is good” isn’t such a lie as I thought it was.


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