“I shall call him Squishy and he shall be mine and he shall be my Squishy. Come here Squishy. Come here little Squishy …” Dory, Finding Nemo.
I’ve found my Squishy … much bigger than the one Dory briefly adored, but the feelings are the same: come to me Squishy, I must have you, you’re totally divine.
Warning: I’m about to beat around the bush.
Surfing the waters of the internet is my obsession. I don’t watch much TV. I don’t read many books. I fall into digital rabbit holes instead.
Most of my surfing is for work: I constantly search for stories for Kidspot. But when it’s time for pleasure, I search for property.
Every five years (or so) I hunt for a new house to buy – I get very itchy feet – but the rest of the time it’s just for fun.
Sometimes, I ponder whether I should become a real estate agent or buyer’s agent so I can immerse myself in property for both business and pleasure. Hmmmm …
… Ooops, sorry, disappeared into a daydream there …
Back to (I was about to say “reality” but then I realised it’s a sandwich short of a picnic away from that) my blog topic: my Squishy.
Yesterday I hit the property adoration jackpot. I want this place so bad it hurts.
Look at it! Just look at it!
Come here Squishy. Come here little Squishy …
Just another “little” thing to add to the “when I win the lottery” list … although I’d better win it bloody soon. My dream house goes to auction on July 18.
What would be number one on your list if you won the lottery? Please don’t say world peace, you’ll make me feel bad, like my ex did that time I fancied a new barbecue (see Unexpected Upsides to Divorce).
Song of the day: U2 “Desire”