I'm generally fairly sanguine about my lot in life. I think that I have had a blessed life so far and regularly thank whichever force has decreed that I should be so fortunate (apart from the bunions, of course). However, the last few months has severely tested my (possibly) complacent view of the world.
Having spent most weekends looking for somewhere to live and submitting to quite intrusive examination to determine whether we were fit to live in some overpriced hovel, we finally had an application accepted and were all set to move out to the 'burbs. Although this meant an extended commute to work I was prepared to do it in order to live in a nice, new townhouse with plenty of space. The day before we were due to sign the lease it all fell through because the potential landlord hadn't settled the purchase. And settlement was going to be delayed at least four weeks and we have to be out of our current place at the end of the month. So the trawling of the websites, fruitless attempts to contact real estate agents and turning up with dozens of other hopefuls at the few places that were halfway decent began again. In desperation.
Fortunately the application we submitted on Saturday was approved and this weekend we move into a townhouse in the same suburb. Not as large as the other one but much closer to the City and easier to get home to after Thursday evening knitting group.