A house inspection

This afternoon we have a house inspection, which my new flatmate is facilitating. This is the first time this has happened to me while I was still actually living in a rental property. It’s not a bad idea as I have changed over flatmates and names are changing on the lease. Still, it’s a little disconcerting having someone come and have a critical look through the way you are living. Not that I think we have anything to worry about – there are no holes in the walls, tears in the carpet, fungus colonies in the bathroom and it’s clean and tidy by anybody’s standards (well, by my standards anyway, but I come from a long line of a formidably clean family, in which inviting people over means you do things like wash the curtains - I’d defy anyone to go to my Nanna’s house and find dust, grime or germs).

All that said I never can quite clear my desk of stuff. I always have bits of paper and thingamebobs hanging about which don’t seem to have anywhere else to go. And I also never seem to know what to do with those clothes you have already worn, which don’t need washing yet, but which you don’t want to put back in the drawer either. I’ve dealt with those for this afternoon though. Hopefully we are allowed to stay living there.