Suzanne Harrington: Money and menopause are making me sell my house
Suzanne Harrington says if Nick Cave can do it, so can she. Picture: Andrew Hasson
For some time now, I have been fantasising about living alone, beholden to no-one, overlooking a barren field where all my fucks once grew, but where they now lie withered, untended. A place where instead of Welcome, my doormat would read Go Away.
Surrounded by others – adult children, their boyfriends/girlfriends, foreign students, Albanian lodgers, huge muddy dogs, my own boyfriend and his primary school-aged children down on a visit – I’ve been staring out the window, gazing longingly towards that dreamy barren field always just beyond the horizon.
