…so that even when things look good in this moment I can be relied upon to find something in the future to worry about. It’s infuriating but it feels borne out of a part of me that always suspects optimism is really recklessness or overconfidence in disguise. Tonight, for instance. We have our first second viewing tomorrow morning. The house looks great, the garden too, and it’s exciting how close everything feels to a tipping point – where we go from climbing the rollercoaster’s peak to hurtling toward our new lives in France. I have, of course, overthought everything about the possibility it might lead to an offer (an offer!) from what might be offered to how long it might take and what each development might mean. But worse I had to bug Jen with my negativity in order to finally start actually getting excited about the fact that this might mean everything starts to happen for us. And it wasn’t even that I was doubting our chances of getting an offer. I had been fully expecting the viewers to bail out of a second viewing, as they give the impression of moving in their own time with no real pressure on making a decision on whether a house is for them or not. Before we came forward with the suggestion that movement on the price was a reality they’d seemingly already written us off without even exploring an offer. So I had fully five minutes of fist-pumping when we got the confirmation – before then springing forward to doubt our future viability. Can we afford to live on X a year? Didn’t our heating engineer say it’d cost us 11’000€ a year to heat the house? (He did, but admittedly to 26 degrees!) If we’re not offered the business mortgage how can we possibly afford to accept a attractive offer for these guys… Sigh. I am scared, there’s no need to deny it, because the worst possible outcome is that we pull off this amazing feat in selling our house and moving to France in the middle of the absolute worst period to be doing so, only to stumble not because of lack of business but due to unalterable drains on our finances – tax, heating, eating. I’m scared because until we’re out there and actually doing this crazemazing thing we won’t know for certain. Le sigh. Yet we’re not even there and I’m missing the chance to be excited about what’s happening now. Not to mention the fact that for every worry based in suggested info there’s double the number or more of sound-seeming noises that suggest we’ll be absolutely fine. But it’s the niggling doubts, the tiny negative cracks that I always fall into regardless of the good news. Thankfully Jen has neither the patience nor the pity to allow me to do this, especially when it affects her too, and we end today looking ahead with bewildering and nervous excitement that we could be a breath away from our dream actually beginning to come true. If we’ve proven anything this last 12 months it’s that we continually outdo our own expectations and rise above any challenge or obstacle we’ve met in order to adapt what we’re doing to get where we’re going. This is what I should trust in. Our ability to evolve and react, our conviction to make this work. We are hours away, perhaps, from having our first offer on the house, just days away, perhaps, from taking the next big step toward a new life, weeks away maybe from leaving behind this house and work and possibly mere months away from finally leaving this country behind and having our first Christmas in Alas, in our new home in the the Pyrenees wonderland. That’s worth getting excited about, whatever happens next.