I feel drained and deflated. Not how I hoped I would feel.
The flat looked awful empty and its going to take a lot more decorating than we originally thought. After all of the hassle, it was an anticlimax - its not my dream home, its just a small two bedroom flat, all we could afford in west London. I've been awake all night worrying that we've made a huge mistake.
I don't think we'll be having a housewarming party or inviting anyone to stay because although it was the best place we looked at by a mile, it really isn't anything to be proud of and it will give certain people further cause for looking down their noses at us or worse the patronising as the 'poor relation' of the friends who've got rich partners & no idea of what it is like to have to work for anything.
And on top of this, the thought that this was my Dad's legacy. All of his life for so little.