Comedy - good husband quality

Text conversation with my husband:

MR MARTIN

Got hold of Dan the apartment guy.  He will txt you about seeing places tomorrow. 

MR MARTIN

I mean he'll txt you soon. To organise seeing places tomorrow. Loves. 

ME

Roger

MR MARTIN

No. His name is Dan.

A few minutes later:

ME 

9:30 am for me and Roger

MR MARTIN

Roger, Clarence.

And yes, folks - that does mean that we are DESPERATE, for a break in the misery as much as for a new apartment.

Oh the melodrama.  There has been tears. Many many awful angry-cry tears.

On Saturday, we went looking at apartments with Mr Tony The Untrustworthy.  He showed us two apartments, and while the first one smelled of mould and had no window in the second bedroom, the second one was perhaps acceptable.

There was a small swimming pool on the ground floor, and access to the roof garden - which is much better than the facilities at Sweethome.

But the kitchen was just a tiny kitchenette on one wall - ok for tea and toast, but even less functional than the kitchen I currently have.

We almost said yes to that.

On Monday, Martin told his office HR person what was going on and she got on the phone to our apartment manager, who immediately came to see me and suggested that I just stay where I am.  Don't move out. Don't move to the other apartment.  Oh, and by the way - did I realise that they asked Mr Tony before signing the contract with the other people what our plans were, and he told them we were moving out?

But by Wednesday that deal was off again.  We fired Mr Tony (of course) and are back to square one, with even less time up our sleeves than before.

We are meeting with two different agents this weekend. This Dan guy (not Roger) and another woman on Saturday.

Please please please let me find somewhere nice. And soon. And let moving house in Vietnam be less bitchy than in NZ.  When we moved from NZ to Vietnam we got packers to come and pack up our stuff and move it all for us.  I'm DEFINITELY doing that again this time...