A few weeks ago, I found myself browsing porn at 1am. Don’t judge me, we’ve all done it. What is the internet for if not to indulge a late-night craving for images of country cottages decked out with deVOL kitchens, coastal retreats flaunting a bathroom with a sea view, or a lovingly restored grade II-listed manor house with acres of land and a price tag even the Beckhams would wince at? Oh, you thought I meant sex? Sorry, too old for that now. Nowadays, nothing turns me on more than typing rightmove.com into my browser.
Which is how I’ve come to spend many a morning sheepishly apologising to estate agents as I cancel the viewings I’ve booked in fevered excitement the night before. I know deep in my heart that I am ready for a change; I am ready to pack up my little London flat and find something with an equally fast broadband connection but also a view of the sea. Unfortunately, while my heart knows it’s ready for this, my bank balance does not – and so I’m stuck. I’m not alone in this feeling of being ready for change but unable to make it happen. In the past few years, I’ve seen friends desperate for a baby but unwilling to do it alone, patiently waiting for a partner. I’ve seen couples pack up their lives and move across the world only to admit that, actually, they miss their friends and family, and come straight back again. And I’ve seen people vow to quit their job each day, and each day return home saying they’ll do it tomorrow.