What are the odds of that?

I decided to make an offer on an apartment yesterday. I just needed my conveyancer Poppy to check the contract.

I sent it to her and she emailed back saying she couldn’t represent me because she was already the vendor’s conveyancer.

Apparently it happens every now and again. Of course it would happen to me.

That threw a bit of a spanner in the works.

Poppy recommended two conveyancers. One was on holidays in Europe, the other didn’t reply to my call or email.

Arrrrrgh!

I called another random conveyancer who said I should just make an offer without getting the contract checked, then worry about getting legal representation if it was accepted.

I’m not sure it was the best plan, but it was all I had. So I emailed my offer and tried to get on with life, with my stomach tied into a thousand knots of stress.

I think I’m doing the right thing. The place felt like home when I went there yesterday for my third inspection.

I met the woman who lives upstairs and is also on the body corporate. She seemed lovely and frank and unbothered by the three flights of stairs she negotiates each day in her mid-60s. She was minding a beagle belonging to a former tenant, so it would seem pets are most definitely allowed … I might even have a potential pet sitter at my disposal.

The traffic noise and the fact I need to traverse two flights of stairs to take the dogs out for a wee are the main drawbacks. A little double glazing will go a long way and I will get fit going up and down those stairs. Maybe I can cancel my gym membership that I’ve only used three times in the past year.

The kids seem cool with the apartment and the location. They would have preferred to stay where we are, but we don’t have that option.

I also finally got a call from the real estate agent at the fire-ordered penthouse. It took him long enough considering I’m one of only four contract holders for the place.

He swore he was unaware of the fire order situation until he saw the strata report on Monday. In fact, he reckons the owner knew nothing about it either. I tend to doubt you’d be unaware of an up-coming $80,000 special levy on your apartment that coincides with you suddenly deciding to put it on the market after only owning it for 18 months, but whatever.

I’ve decided that as nice as the penthouse looks, I’d rather live in more modest digs and save myself a bloody fortune on the sale price.

I am sure there is still much wheeling and dealing on the cards to get the deal done, but I will keep you in the loop.

Song of the day: Queen & Annie Lennox & David Bowie – “Under Pressure”