I have a confession.
I have this Right Move obsession. (You know, the website with ALL THE HOUSES on it.)
I mean, one day we will be moving. When we are ready financially. That day is not that near. But still, I have this obsession. And I fear that it is not a normal one.
On occasion after a glass of wine, I search Right Move. I search for random houses in random places. And I order my search highest price first.
Sometimes (in my head) I have won the lottery. So I have to pick a house. I start with the ones for £46,000,000 because quite frankly they are gorgeous and probably a bargain right now, you know, considering the housing market and everything. Not only do I perv over the luxurious rooms with their 53 cushions on each bed and massive islands in the middle of their kitchens - I actually plan my life around them for a bit. I say things out loud like "Oh no...we couldn't have a pond in the back garden - I'd be on pins with the kids playing outside..."
I examine the plush grounds and wonder if I would ever be bothered to put my trainers on and go for a jog. Would I even find my way back?
And if I had a massive gym, would I work any harder with my weights?
I wonder about parking and "OMG how on earth would I manage to clean all those rooms?"
And the age-old daunting question: "What if the kids play hide and seek and we never find them?"
You see, this obsession is a high maintenance one. It is actually quite stressful. I get myself all confused and I wonder even if I have won the lottery, how long would it take before all of my funds were depleted on energy bills and hired home-help?
Warren looks over from the other couch. "You OK? Shall we watch something on telly?"
Phew. That's the obsessive stressful fantasy over for one night.
Until the next time, of course.
I did ask Warren if he wanted me to add him in any of these photos.
Oddly, he said no.