O I think this really is a bit dangerous

Living more dangerously is now becoming part of my everyday life. When it comes to taking the safe option I find myself bothering less and less. I could talk about how I started making a chocolate ice cream that used the words 'live dangerously' in the recipe and in spite of this went and hid underneath my duvet halfway through the proceedings. It still turned out OK. In fact it was way, way more than OK. I could also mention how I just get into the car and blithely follow TomTom Tim's instructions to get to places (those of you who are aware of my legendary sense of direction realise quite how dangerous this is). Furthermore I could write about how the speedometer on the car was broken for well over a week and I just drove at a speed that 'felt about right'.

But no, today I have to tell you about how we have booked packers and movers for Thursday and Friday and we haven't even exchanged contracts on our house sale/purchase. This really is living dangerously. I am, in fact, a little bit stressed about this. I was so abrasive with our estate agent today that I was shaking by the time I came off the phone. I then went to see our buyer and burst into tears with frustration because they just cannot see the urgency of the situation. I'll let you know how this little escapade works out. At what point should I concede that we aren't going to move this week? Before or after everything I possess has been put into boxes?