Here are some of the best things about living in my new place.

Space – the ceilings are high and the rooms large, even though it is as full as our last two places, it doesn’t feel that way.

Storage – we have space to put things.  There are even empty cupboards.  (Shh don’t tell D.)

Location – Bus stop outside gets you to the centre of town quick sharp and the tube station is 10 minutes away.  The park is 2 minutes away, and when the nepheices come, we are able to enjoy its wide open spaces. My frisbee skills are already improved.

Mirror – I have the world’s most flattering mirror in my bathroom, I have never felt more attractive.

Bathroom – I have mentioned the shower in my bathroom before, but it bears repeating.  It is a religious experience every time. Absolute bliss.

Kitchen – Oh, the joy of flitting from sink to kettle without turning the gas on with my ass.

Stuff – Some of this stuff I have missed, especially the pictures.  It’s nice to have it all up and around me once more.  Even if every time I trip over a chair or table I curse the fact that we have so many.

Fridge – Now that my fridge is larger, I can have two jars of jam open concurrently.  It’s rather nice actually…

Here are some of the things that aren’t so good about living in my new place.

Storage – So many cupboards, I have to remember what I put where…  Not to mention that I will never be able to persuade my family to throw anything away again.  They will just want to keep everything.  In case they need it.  Because you never know when that obsolete chrome towel rail or the 15 electric fans will come in handy.

Mirror – Thanks to my flattering mirror, I freely avail myself of the contents of the snack cupboard (told you we had too many cupboards).  The snacking needs to stop or I’ll need new jeans.  At least I have the wardrobe space…

Fridge – The fact that the fridge is bigger means that I now spend more on groceries.  That can’t be good.  We are still the same number of people and having a bigger fridge should not affect our consumption, but somehow – it does.  Maybe it’s all the open jams…

Parking – I finally have residence parking, but anyone visiting has to either donate a body part to get one hour in the drive, or pay Royal Parks a small fortune 7 days a week, 09:00 to 18:30.  Still, at least the tube station is nearby, and you can park on the main road after 7pm.  I have found a residence bay nearby and am completely paranoid about losing the space.  So I don’t use my car.  I guess this counts in both columns – on the one hand, I am no longer using my car, but on the other hand I am spending less on petrol. Oh well, swings and roundabouts.

Weed – The neighbours downstairs smoke a lot of weed.  As a result, the corridor and my room smell like student accommodation almost all the time, and certainly every evening.  I am sure I get a contact high. I wake up with a headache every morning, and find the smell of smoke and weed deeply unpleasant.  Actually – maybe that’s why my grocery bills have gone up – it’s the flipping munchies. I must admit, I don’t really know what to do about this one.  Short of putting on high heels or heavy boots and clomping about over their heads every time I smell it as a form of negative reinforcement, I am at a loss…  Suggestions on a postcard please.

Micro-climate – I am developing a tan in my own apartment.  It is seriously hot in here.

Either way, the novelty hasn’t yet worn off.  I am still in the romantic first flushes of the relationship with my new home.  Everything seems cuter, nicer and lovelier than it normally would, you know like when your new boyfriend tells you that he farts every time he sneezes.  At first it’s funny.  Then after a while, it’s clench-your-fists-grind-your-teeth-count-to-100-annoying, especially when you are introducing him to your parents. By the time you have been married for a couple of years you make him move out during hay fever season.   Soon all the things I now think are wonderful will start to grate on my nerves and I will complain bitterly about how many cupboards I have and how high the ceilings are.  I mean today for example, the bulb in the hallway blew.  I got up on a tall ladder and started trying to prise the lampshade off the ceiling so that I could see what bulb was required.  I am not very good on ladders.  In fact on a ladder I am about as steady as jelly on a banana skin on a moving vehicle.  The fact that our ladder is super rickety and wobbles really badly doesn’t help matters at all.  There I was trying to move the plate of glass this way and that, all to no avail.  I still don’t know what lamp is required.  I did what any sane woman would do.  I plugged in two of our 45 superfluous lamps. Screw it (or even bayonet it) I can’t change it.  It’s lamps until someone really tall or really helpful comes over.

Advertisements