Buying a house is an utter, utter fucker. Estate agents are basically scum. Everything is more expensive than it rightfully should be. Even though I’ve been waiting for this moment for 10 years, I can’t actually enjoy it, because of arseholes. Even though the house I want to buy is probably worth what I’m going to pay for it, I feel cheated.
Nobody does what they need to do when they need to do it unless you talk to them like a child and threaten non-payment of their scarcely-earned fees. They are all playing you off against other people, and needlessly obfuscating. Even as someone who hasn’t had to scrimp up a few thousand and has everything he’ll ever have riding on this, I’m by turns disappointed and actually upset by the attitude of sellers, agents, conveyancers, solicitors... it just goes on. Even the vendor, who was nice enough initially, has turned hard-nosed and pushy.
I’ve got no help in this either, as Mike can’t even be bothered to pick up the phone, and Tam’s parents are more interested in (a) minimising the amount that we spend because they have no perspective on the matter and (b) borrowing from me so they can effect their own move. Despite the fact that I haven’t got the money yet, for God’s sake.
It’s still better than renting. It’s still better than renting. It’s still better than renting.
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