Working on Saturday...
To top it all off, the paramour seems to think this 'house' will be fit for co-habitation before Christmas. And when I scoffed at this he fixed me with his eye and said...
'Well? You tell me? When are we going to move in together... properly? '
'Sheeet, we spend most nights together as it is.' I say.
'That's not the same thing at all.'
'I'm not moving in here until it's ready.'
'You know you haven't even looked for someone to rent the apartment yet.'
''So, it will go quickly when it's available.'
'Oh yeah? And when might that be?'
'I don't know.'
'I am NOT! How can I be stalling? I don't actually have anywhere else to live.'
'Harumph.' He said and went back to yanking the rotting skirting board off the wall of what he laughingly refers to as the sitting room.
I shake a spider the size of a small dog from my sleeve and head back to the landing, pausing to watch my future husband work for a mo. He looks hot and serious...and a bit fed up.
He is totally right, I am stalling.
On the plus side, if Etheline makes up her fucking mind if she really is leaving that Kevin or not, I can rent it to her.