I’m still feeling quite raw after yesterday’s county court hearing. The joiner who did such an appalling job of fitting my kitchen a year ago made a claim against me for not paying him the full amount. I made a counter claim in response for his shoddy workmanship and sh**y attitude.

We had mediation in March but we couldn’t reach an agreement. After months of gathering evidence and preparing the case I was very much ready to bring matters to a conclusion. Despite having a strong case, I felt uncertain. I was right.

In the end, after some to-ing and fro-ing and extreme discomfort on my behalf, we were encouraged by the judge to call it quits. It’s a relief since this matter has been at the forefront of my mind for over a year now and I was desperate for closure. I’ve let so many areas in my life slip, especially my career.

One minute the judge was kind, then he laid into the claimant for not formatting his evidence correctly. He proceeded to inform me that he hadn’t even received my evidence bundle. I handed it in at the court office personally! In any case, if the additional documents I’d emailed subsequently were anything to go by, I hadn’t followed the (easily missed) formatting instructions either! With hindsight, it’s interesting that we both missed these crucial instructions.

I was shocked and disappointed. It meant he didn’t have any of the information I had painstakingly pored over for hours, fastidiously fact checking and sifting through minutiae which dredged up uncomfortable feelings from that traumatic time, carefully adding the case number to each document, re-reading, re-reading. I felt overwhelmed, sick to the stomach. It was as though my whole world was being pulled down from beneath me. Weeks of work, arduous hours spent at the laptop for nothing.

After the judge left us in the courtroom to attempt to resolve matters between us to no avail, he came into the oppressive chambers a third time and proceeded to tell us that if we didn’t resolve matters there and then, another trial could take months. We’d have to pay for an independent expert to inspect my kitchen and even then it was likely I’d lose. It could affect our credit scores. He really laid it on thick.

It would have been foolish to press the matter further. We both reluctantly agreed to call it quits. It was devastating but there was nothing else to be done.

It took a while for things to really sink in but by today, I’m glad it’s behind me. I can genuinely say I don’t care about this cursed kitchen anymore, or this house for that matter. It’s just a house. It no longer feels like home.

I woke up thinking I’m ready to move on from here. It’s time for a new chapter. A fresh start.