Freaking out.

I am being forced to move house, because, let's face it, two burglaries in four months really was enough. I'm moving in with other people for the first time since living with people in university halls put me off, but only for 5 months because in the middle of all that, my boyfriend asked me to move in with him which will happen in August, after his tenancy has ended.

And, despite all of that, I do not want to move. I really, really do not want to move. I love this horrible, unsafe, scabby little flat so much because it was mine - It was the place I chose on my own, it was the place I bought my furniture for, it was the place I had been working towards having since I left school. It's beautiful, quiet and even though it's far away from just about everywhere, obviously unsafe, has dreadful carpets and curtains and I have annoying neighbours, I love it. I love living here, and I love living on my own. Other people are annoying, want to talk all the time, judge me from sitting on the sofa all day at the weekend, judge what I eat, judge what I do or do not do... I literally cannot think of anything worse than living with other people, my boyfriend included and all in all, I don't want any of this to be happening, not even a little bit.

Living with other people is like being on show all of the time. I can't spend all day on the sofa if I want to, I can't eat nutella from the jar for dinner if I have other people to feed too, I can't walk around with my Diana Ross-style natural hair without straightening it, I can't set my alarm for 20 minutes before the time I actually need to get up and press the 'sleep' button repeatedly, I can't put my deodorant on and then get back into bed when it's too cold to stand around and wait for it to dry, I can't spend whole evenings sat using the internet, I can't get up at the time I want to get up at weekends, I can't bleach my moustache and still wander around doing other things, I can't decorate the way I want to...

Generally, I am too selfish to live with people and my boyfriend rarely lets me get my own way, so I will be living his life AND I DON'T WANT TO. I don't care how many of my friends and family keep talking about me behind my back (although, fair play, they do tell me what they say to my face later) because apparently going out with someone for 12 months and not wanting to live together is weird, or not even living with someone by the age of 24 is weird, I DO NOT CARE. I LOVE LIVING ON MY OWN AND I LOVE HAVING MY OWN THINGS AND MY OWN LIFE. I DON'T WANT TO MOVE AND I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO LIVE SOMEONE ELSE'S LIFE.

I literally cry every time I think about it. I do not want any of this to be happening. I want to stay here in my own comfort zone, living my own life. I don't want this, any of it.

Someone make it stop, please?

My new skills.

I am fast becoming a flat-pack furniture goddess.

But, if after this week I ever see another box of flat-pack, I fully expect to have a complete nervous breakdown. Even sight of some instructions may well send me into shock, my poor knees couldn't take another minute so I highly expect they would just disintegrate and leave me crumpled on the floor. Flat-pack is not fun, neither is moving tonnes of boxes around to make room for the furniture, only to have to move them back to unpack. Now, I consider myself to be fairly fit and active, but another few boxes and I may well be ruined. You can teach on crutches, right? 

I am also good at cleaning disgusting things left by the previous tenant without gagging.

I was going to write more about this but even thinking about the things I cleaned in the bathroom this morning is making me gag. Some people are disgusting. Enough said.

I am also good at working my shiny new Sky+ box.

I realise this is one of those products that solves a problem that didn't previously exist. I have made it through my entire life without feeling the need to record programmes whilst watching something else, and I have managed without 'series link' to record all my favourite programmes in case I forget them, yet I expect this will become a product I, now, couldn't live without. Sad but true. 

I am good at cooking without the use of most major appliances.

When I use the grill, the smoke alarm goes off. When I use the hob, it takes absolutely forever to heat up so if I ever needed a seering-hot pan to perhaps cook a steak or seal some meat, short of starting a fire in the garden, I couldn't do it. The oven works though, so it'll be casseroles and roast dinners galore for the next year. Or anything which needs simmering on a low heat for large amounts of time.


I am good at being on my own. Actually, it doesn't bother me now I've settled. Which is great news.

Yay!

Decision making and being quite terrified.

I have always known I am dreadful at making decisions.

Unless I have a very strong preference either one way or the other, I need a second person to help me make the decision, to help me balance my logic and generally to confirm/dispute any 'vague ideas' I might have about whatever I'm deciding. I knew, therefore, that this would be something that I have to get over as I move out this week and take on all responsibility from everything from furniture, bills to choosing which cereal to buy. The cereal issue, in particular, is one I always find difficult. I mean, you walk down the cereal aisle and there are so many choices, all of differing tastes, prices, nutritional value, ones which are more filling, ones which are branded, ones which are not... and it isn't something that I have a strong preference for, I like lots of different cereals, and therefore I have always been quite ridiculously overwhelmed by this ordeal.

(Slightly dramatic but it really is one of my anxiety triggers).

So it's no wonder really that I have spent nearly 3 days selecting all my furniture. And even in doing that, I needed my Mum's opinion on a few things, but finally I did manage to come to a decision and place my order today. That was an ordeal in itself, and it will leave me pretty-much housebound for a fortnight whilst I wait in for deliveries, but I actually have my own furniture. Furniture I chose and furniture I now have to live with whether I like it or not - I only have myself to blame and, that thought, I find very scary. Which is why, I guess, I find making decisions about expensive things difficult and why I usually try to avoid it.

But no more! It will be one of those things I have to do and have to get used to whether I like it or not which, let's face it, is the best way to get over stupid little hang-ups like this.

Although I do have to go food shopping and choose some cereal on Saturday...

Shall I just have toast for breakfast?

Anyway, in other news, the managing agent rang me yesterday to say they had painted every wall, door and ceiling in the flat, that it was being cleaned today by a "team of professional cleaners" and that the door and chain were also being fixed today. Which is great news, and a great comfort to see I have such pro-active managing agents who are straight on the case of any problems. He said he would ring back to confirm it had all been done and other than insisting that he goes round to personally inspect the property, which clearly was not done before, I'll finally be ready to move in on Saturday.

Just the case of university results day tomorrow...

As if I'm not anxious enough this week.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

(As literate as ever...)

So, I've moved!

Although, surprisingly enough (I did think things were going far too well by my standards) my luck has run out and the flat was not much short of a disaster.

The letting agents went on and on to me about the conditions of my deposit, "we expect it to be returned in the immaculate condition you find it in today" blah blah blah and yet when I turned up, the place was disgusting. It stank of smoke, the whole place quite frankly needs repainting (which I'm annoyed about because, surely if the previous tenant lived there for five years, it would of COURSE need a lick of paint before anyone else moved in) and to say it was "immaculate" in terms of cleanliness was so far short of the mark you couldn't even see the mark. The kitchen was disgusting, the carpet needed more than a damn good hoover, and the bathroom quite frankly needed industrial-strength bleach across the whole thing. Clearly in the four weeks since I looked around nothing has been cleaned in the slightest and as a consequence it was rank.

So I put on my grumpy face and marched back to the agents (who manage the property) and, armed with a list, demanded that it will all be sorted by the time I come back with the rest of my stuff on Saturday. Which, whilst it seemed like an inconvenience at first, having to traipse all the way back down to Devon for this week, is now a blessing in disguise. I wouldn't have slept on that floor if you'd paid me, and I told the gentleman who deals with my property as such. He was very apologetic and confirmed that he would have cleaners, painters and decorators sent out for the next day and that I could ring on Thursday to confirm but it would all have been dealt with by then.

So on Saturday, I will finally move all of my things and have my furniture delivered into a "pristine" flat which will not even need a hoovering, or so I am told, and I can finally play house. Cannot wait!

Although, now I'm stuck on hold to various companies to sort out the boring details about bills. It has at least given me time to write this though, I've been on hold to EDF for nearly 40 minutes.

I have somewhere to live!

I finally have a flat in London! My moving date is the 27th of June and that will be the day I have been waiting for - every single decision I've made in the last 4 years has been building up to this and now I'm 20 days away from having everything I've ever wanted, and this flat really is the icing on the cake. Don't get me wrong, it's not massive, but the kitchen is lovely, the bathroom is nice, the bedroom is spacious and the living space is nice if not slightly compact. I couldn't take any photos of the inside because the current tenant had boxes packed up to the ceiling, but, check out the view:

Plus, being right on the river bank, it is so quiet you wouldn't know you were only 20 minutes from central London... other than being under the flightpath for London City Airport, but everywhere in the area is (obviously) so I can't hold that against it. And anyway, even when I sat and ate my lunch on the benches opposite I only counted 4 planes in 45 minutes, which you wouldn't even notice after a while. On top of all this, it's a ten minute walk to my school, probably only 15 minutes walk to the train station or a 5 minute bus ride, and even better, there is a sports club down the road which runs the kick boxing school I used to be a member of before it closed locally, which means I can start going again! I'm so excited I just want to scream and dance around!

I have literally never been this excited in all my life, I just want to run out and buy all my furniture, accessories and kitchen stuff now! I know it will be a pain to move it all but I can't see myself holding out this long. Plus, there isn't a Tesco/Ikea very nearby so it might be worthwhile doing, especially seeing as I now have the opportunity to do three trips in the car when moving rather than just two.

Ok, I'm going to get up and sort my life out so I can justify getting excited!

Plus, I have another date on Wednesday, if you can call it that. This all followed a very messy night out with the girls to celebrate graduating, but I think that story is best left forgotten and this whole thing kept pretty quiet. Which would usually not be worth the hassle, but I'm now moving in less than 3 weeks and, if I thought London was a long way, he's moving to Cairo to teach in August, so this is as short-term as is humanly possible and, to be honest, is basically about sex and right now that suits me fine.

So heres to an exciting last three weeks in Plymouth before I finally escape this hell-hole and get everything I've ever wanted. Finally :)