Almost exactly a month ago, I became a homeowner.
The home loan turned out to be smaller than expected, but the thought of servicing a mortgage for the next 20 to 30 years wasn't particularly comforting. After more than a decade as a 'productive' member of society, I'd like to retire already, please. But noooo.
The new place, 110 square metres, on the 9th level, needed full renovations.
So far, we have seen all the floor tiles and old fittings hacked, new windows put in and false ceiling almost completed. New floor tiles have been purchased and so have the kitchen sink, cooker hob and two sets of WCs. Lighting and electrical points already decided upon, lamps more or less chosen, as are the positioning of various furniture.
Various hiccups so far include the 'loss' of renovation permit by relevant authorities, which saw us waiting 4 weeks for the wall hacking to be approved, and floor tiles wrongly laid in one of the bathrooms.
I would show you what the place originally looked like, but those pictures were inadvertently deleted.
On a separate note, when you text your middle-aged contractor uncle at 11.30am and again at 1.30pm to no avail, only to receive a response some time after 3pm, with profuse apologies about how he had a late night and only just got out of bed - you know he is more happening than you. Ouch.
