Nothing makes me dream of my new place more than being trapped in my old one
Confession: I’m a member of the community of property website Rightmove, er, enthusiasts. It would be nice to find a kink-positive name for us cornicing-botherers and square-footage fetishists (Belgians call property obsession being born with a “brick in the stomach”), but I accept it’s a sordid little vice, on a par with reading the Daily Mail sidebar on women having secondary sexual characteristics while wearing clothes.
Fantasies of home are especially potent at the moment, because nothing clarifies your thoughts and dreams about home as much as the long, dull reality of being stuck there. Even though no one and nothing is moving at the moment, property fantasies are especially potent, because nothing clarifies your thoughts and dreams about home as much as the long, dull reality of being stuck there.
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