Our flat. I'm loving it. Since moving in, Ian and I have been trying to kit it out and, as far as our meager budgets will allow, we've become domestic geeks.
It's almost all down to Ian - steamers, really sharp knives, energy saving bulbs, lovely sparkling white shower curtain.
A year ago, I was living in a flat where everything had already been bought, used, washed, used, washed, a billion times over. It was someone else's stuff, someone else's shower curtain. Ian and I bought our first ever joint-purchase for our room, two matching pine flatpacked bedside tables. We measured up and everything in advance of buying them. Yep, that was the day we learned that forgetting to take account of skirting boards results in wasted money and assembly.
But we're here in our new flat, everything except the major furniture and appliances is ours and hey presto - our bedside tables fit like a glove.
So I know I said there were changes happening, and I've been dying to spit it out on this blog. It's not like a secret or anything - it's work-related. I handed in my resignation last week, to move to another company, and was all up and ready to leave, when my current employer did the Godfather thing, and made an counter-offer I couldn't refuse without kicking my own ass 2 years down the line (I think). So in a day I went from leaving my company to a promotion.
Now I don't want to jinx it, because nothing's really on paper yet and most of my co-workers aren't aware of it, but in about a month I'm movin' on up, to the position I had in my sights in my 5 year plan, a year ago. Not too shabby eh Nige!
This is a 
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