The phone rings at 9 this morning. It's Useless Solicitor. "Sorry to call so early," she trills. "I haven't woken you up, have I?"
I give a hollow laugh. That'll be the day. "I have three children," I reply. "No, you haven't woken me up."
"We're all set to exchange contracts," she says. "Just a last query from your buyer..."
Oh, here we go. I answer the last query. I seem to remember having answered it about three weeks ago, but I don't quibble.
"Right, that should do it," she says. "I'll get back to you within the hour."
For a brief moment, I allow myself to get excited. Oh my God. We might actually be moving house! After all this time of not allowing myself to get my hopes up about the house JUST IN CASE the sale goes pear-shaped, we might actually be getting somewhere now. I might actually need to start packing, and telling people my change of address and arranging a removal van and everything!
An hour passes. Then two. It's now three and a half hours later, and there's stil no word. I have chased Useless Solicitor by email (don't want to tie up her phone line, obviously) but she has just replied to say our buyers and our sellers are just waiting for last documents.
I think this is going to be a long, long day...