It is astonishing how unsteady a few simple things can make you feel. I keep trying to remind myself that I have a good job, in a place I mostly like*, with good friends around me. Our (rented) house is warm, and we have a place that one day will hopefully be a decent place to live.

I should really stop whinging. But both Kathryn and I were talking yesterday, and it's just that we both feel weary. It's been over a year of fighting and it really feels like we've made very little progress except to fritter away the money from my dad** on houses we can't live in and land we can't build on.

That said, today I'm off to the city to plead our case about the windows (and correct a mistake on my elevations, I missed a small window off the side).

Hopefully you've managed to make some progress on the car. It's always insane when bureaucracy seems to get in the way of something that instinctively makes sense - if that's what it is. I've been reading through Elspeth Beard's travels round the world, and her frustration at her experiences in India of being redirected to the wrong person to get stamps on documents that don't exist or aren't appropriate feels terribly familiar...

* before the whole vague feedback thing I was a hell of a lot happier.
** which puts a whole different level of guilt on things.