My life seems like a continous funfair of dramas. Watch out kids, Karen is in town!
Apart from my decision to quit my job and get a new one, I have also decided to move house.
Last night was the final straw. The little dutch boy with his finger in the wall went, "daz it!" and took his little finger and walked away.
The Loud Sex One came home and started throwing his weight around again. Turning off room lights while we were in them, complaining about the electricity bill, accusing us of stealing the hot water, changing the TV channel every time we wanted to watch something.
After his girlfriend dragged him upstairs to stop him from making an even bigger arse of himself, The Banana Grabbing One and I decided that we hate living with The Loud Sex One and that by September, we're up and moving to somewhere else.
The genius of this 2-second plan is that it actually might be perfect. The Banana Grabbing One has just started a rediculously fancy job at Deutchebank which will look great on any rental application. Also, moving out together means we only have to get one truck and can help each other load/unload.
Plus, I don't think The Loud Sex One realises how much The Banana Grabbing One and I hold this house together. When we move I'm going to make sure we take everything of ours with us. Which means no washing machine or tables, no gardening equipment oo doorbell, no cultery or cups or wok, and no soap, cleaning products, vaccuum cleaner or toilet paper left. I mean nothing.
Oh, and in September it's very likely our rent is going to be pushed up. So the Loud Sex One, who has just dropped down to working part time, will have to suddenly pay at least $700 a week in rent. HAH.
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