Moving Day was 22nd August 2020 and my wife and I felt lucky. She bought a lottery ticket.

We never did that, but we were on a roll. Late last month I knew I was going to lose my job.

Performance reviews were being put in place. We hadn't had them for years.

It's smell like a few people were let go in the department down the hall.

I was stressed working extra hours for free trying to show how useful I was.

When I just about reached the breaking point I came home from work and my wife asked me if I was going to apply for that job.

I said I didn't know what she was talking about. She then showed me what I told her to write down.

I said I called her many times excitedly about it. I was so overworked I couldn't remember.

And the next day I had an interview.

I was offered the job. 30 miles down the road, more money, better conditions and a better place.

No longer would be living in her rundown part of a larger city.

Going to work a few hundred yards away from a new apartment building.

They hooked me up with. It was late. We drove our compact car,

containing all of our possessions. Ready to move in.

My wife asked me to check the lottery numbers.

I did send her a screenshot.

Then the apartment building came into view.

Story behind the place fascinated me.

Originally a Victorian workhouse where poor children and women worked tirelessly to weave fabric.

Then later on it was a warehouse that stored oak barrel whiskey.

The estate agent told us the place was perfect for something like that.

He said they still had a barrel in the basement.

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