Moving Out

In the next couple of weeks, all going well, I’ll be moving from my Dad’s flat to an actual house with a landlord and flatmates and bills. This means paying proper rent and living with people I’m not related to, two things I’ve yet to do, like, ever (shut up, I am only 21…).

Obviously I’m excited. It’ll be the first time in my life I won’t be living with a parent. That’s got to be exciting, right? But my overwhelming emotion is anxiety. What if I’m not cut out for living with other people? What if my clean-freakishness takes over and I scare everyone with incessant polishing? What if I hog the bathroom? What if I’m taken over by the urge to fritter away my rent money on shoes and pastry? And so on. I also have an extreme attachment to my current area, despite it being a bit rough around the edges (and one of the worst three roads in Britain apparently).

But deep down I know I haven’t a good reason to be worried. My rent is more than affordable, I vaguely know the area where I’ll be living and my future housemates are lovely. I also get to live with another Domestic Slut, so I’m assuming there will be Shared Wardrobe Privileges and brownies. And we’ll have a house warming party. And a SodaStream!

So why do I have the horrible feeling that once I’ve moved in and unpacked my things, I’ll burst into tears?

30 things I miss about home

  1. Walking through the graveyard on the way to the shops
  2. And getting a cone of chips on the way back.
  3. The hammock in my back garden.
  4. Sisters 2 & 3 teasing me about my clothes/eyebrows/hair and insisting that they style me instead.
  5. Sisters 2 & 3 in general.
  6. My mum.
  7. Being cooked for.
  8. Eating at the kitchen table.
  9. Being told I can’t leave the kitchen table until I finish all of my dinner.
  10. My family making me laugh so much over dinner that I fall off my chair.
  11. Coffee made in a percolator and sweetened with condensed milk.
  12. Buttery scrambled eggs.
  13. Taxi home after a night out for £7.
  14. Cocktails for £4.
  15. Not ever wearing a coat on a night out.
  16. Queuing outside the only club open until 3am and hoping we wouldn’t get ID’d.
  17. Dime bar milkshakes from Shake Out.
  18. Hopping on the bus to Nottingham, just because.
  19. Butterflies when I bump into certain people.
  20. My grandma, grandad and aunts.
  21. Strawberry bonbons from the DVD rental place.
  22. Three bedrooms in my tiny house, each playing a different CD at full blast.
  23. The smell of fabric softener.
  24. Epic games of Monopoly.
  25. My aunt popping round with strawberry and cream tart.
  26. Stealing my sister’s shoes and denying it later.
  27. Saturday night movies.
  28. Walking the scary way home.
  29. Singing along to Earth, Wind & Fire in my mum’s car.
  30. Drinking out of my giant Aristocats mug.

*sniffle*

Someone remind me that I’m incredibly lucky to be in London please?

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