Well last night Dave and I drank pink fizz to celebrate the fact that we are now proud land owners (apparantly we sign for the house loan later?!). We went to the bank and we sat for what seemed like five hours discussing loans, interest rates, repayments with interest only options, repayments without interest only options, house insurance, repayment insurance, contents insurance, builders falling off our roof insurance, action against gods will insurance and in case of death insurance.
Yep we got the whole 'did you know that 1 in 3 people will suffer from a life threatening illness in their life time' speech. However, I don't think he expected me to reply 'yeah, and I'm the one responsible for killing them'!
I am just hoping that Dave was really listening to it all as I spent the first half of the interview trying to determine his accent. Scottish but where from? Too soft for a Weegie. Too proper for the Brock. Not sing-songy enough for the Islands. When the Bank manager stepped outside to fax something (I dunno, possibly a contract I signed which promised half of my house to him, I didn't read it!) Dave turned to me and said 'So what do you think?'. I replied 'Not sure. Do you think Stirling or maybe the Borders'. Apparently this wasn't the answer he was looking for. He was discussing the offset account compared to the phlooby-looby account (really wasn't listening) and was hilariously asking for my advice! Me, the girl who can eek out twenty pounds for a fortnight before payday but as soon as payday arrives the money slips out of my hands like liquid mercury. Anyway the offset vs the phlooby arguement was soon discarded as I embroiled Dave in the 'Scottish?' game. He assured me that he was not even from Scotland. He reckons Irish! As if. I can tell an Irish from a Scottish accent. We decided that maybe in the middle. Isle of Mull?
So with that game nicely tied up it left me with some time to contemplate the reasoning for the school uniform green paint on the walls as Dave and Bernard (surely Scottish) discussed yet more land owning issues and ways the bank can take our house from us! Now who would match green walls with burnt orange furniture? In a bank? Where people are already nauseaus enough at the thought of owing 25 years of their working life to a multi-million dollar owning Bank? I think it was a conniving way of making the customer feel that the belly wibbling vomit feeling in the pit of their stomach was not to do with the putrid colours at all but with the possibility of losing their house to the bank, right leg to a shark or roof to a 'willy-willy' (small but destructable tornado) and at once signing up for every insurance known to man.
We of course resisted buying into that whole insurance malarcky. Well at the moment we have nothing to insure. What could possibly happen to a piece of earth and sand? Blow over? No, tis flat. Woodworm? No, tis dirt etc etc.
Anyway I zoned back into the conversation when Bernard happened to mention credit cards and the joint account! Joint Account? Flippin Heck. This is more serious than I thought. I hadn't realised that we would be 'doing' the married persons joint account thing. Now I have no problem in spending Dave's money when he's the one doing the actual spending but to actually take
his money out of
his account, now that's a different story. I would feel like a thief every time I went and spent money on something nice for myself (ooh, you should see the fabulous bag I bought from Accessorise the other day. Coral with sequins and beads and flowers. Very summer and very now!) which is, lets face it, every week! After discussing it with Dave we think we may have come up with a plan. I will set up another account in my name and transfer a minimal amount there each month and this will hopefully cover my addiction to all things sparkly and all things tequila related!
And it shall be called 'The Ladies Nice Things' account. Wish me luck!
