We've sold our apartment. Actually, we got the offer two weeks ago, signed the preliminary contract at the notary's last week, and confirmed the completion date this week -- but I didn't want to write anything about it for fear of jinxing it. Yes, I'm that superstitious.
Now that we've reached this point, I don't know how to feel. Happy that we won't be losing a bundle on this place? Sad because it's a great apartment, and we'll certainly never find anywhere like it again? Excited at the prospect of finding a new place in the UK to buy and do up? Overwhelmed at the thought of all the stuff that we need to do before we move -- such as getting through our extensive alcohol collection? All of these things, but mainly just a wee bit deflated. We've been talking about this move for the past two years, but now it's real.
Oh well, it's always best to leave a party when you're still enjoying yourself, rather than hanging on to the bitter end and heading home when the sun's coming up and I have no idea where this is analogy is going. Time to stop. Now.
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