Thursday, 4 October 2007

There’s just no point struggling on... (VERY bad news about the house)

Current mood:  depressed

You know how my mum was depressed over the house yesterday, but she didn't know quite why?  Well, I reckon it was another bit of her "psychic-ness".  She woke me up at 9.30 this morning (early for her standards), and immediately said to me, "I just noticed there was a letter in the porch from the architect so I picked it up."  (Normally I pick up the mail when I come downstairs.  That's our routine - call us weird if you like!) 
Anyway, my heart soared!  The architect had written back so quickly!  Now maybe we could finally get the builders moved in and sort things out!  The next things she said brought me back down to Earth with a big BUMP!  "He says the kitchen's too small, (What the heck?!  Mum's allowed us to make it so big that even my father thinks it's big enough now, and he's a kitchen-addict!) so he wants to see us about it and discuss where we'll put a dishwasher." (We don't want or need a dishwasher, thank you!) She paused, and I knew something bad was coming.
"He also says that even if we do go ahead, we're going to need a LOT of planning permission, and there's no way we can get the builders in before March anyway, since he's got busy with other people now."
I think I yelped aloud actually.   I was hoping to be moved by February, even with all of my parents' dithering, but this means there would be no hope until at least next AUGUST/SEPTEMBER*Sob*  I think I might just crawl under a rock and die.  There is no way it's going to take the architect that long to get planning permission.  He's just making us wait six months because that's how long David delayed him.  So basically, if we're to move to that house, it's going to be ten or eleven months before I can even change my image, and go to college.  Forget voice acting or getting out of this darn country.  I don't even have a chance of getting my own bed until I'm long gone seventeen now.  *Bigger sob*  Mum can't go on her holidays, since we all  know we can't leave this house and all our posessions in such a dangerous area.  And now suddenly, it's MY fault that this has happened because I never told them this was what I suspected. I have tried but every time I do say anything they tell the "little b*tch" to "shut up".
So that's it.  Mum's not sure what to do now.  Should we keep on trying with this house, meaning we won't move for almost a year, or should we sell up, try to find another house (not decorated to our tastes and probably not as big) and buy that one?  Knowing David, that might take just as long.  He wouldn't even discuss the situation tonight, since he's "tired" which means that if we are going to apply for planning permission, it won't be done until at least Monday now.
Why Monday?  Well, the place is shut at weekends, and tomorrow we're setting off on our third and final of our one-night's away - this time to Nottingham Goose Fair.  I was looking forward to it, but now I'm just feeling too miserable.   Anyhow, I won't be online again until Friday night.  Just thought I should let you know that.  I might stop bothering logging in all together though, and spend my days sleeping in the "communal bed" (Since I'm never going to have my own place to sleep ).  What's the point of getting up when there's no hope of life even beginning for another year?
Yours VERY sadly,

Desiree-In-Grottsville-With-No-Chance-Of-Getting-Out

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