every day life – Page 12

“But here we are in the weeds again, here we are in the bowels of the thing: your world doesn’t make sense.”

Sunday 27th September, on a train travelling North

Late on Friday night I texted my father “I want to come home.” It had started with my washing machine. The washing machine in my flat is unusable, so I’m going to switch it with my own, much better one. Unfortunately my dad and I can’t lift it ourselves, so we need my sister to help. She was on holiday, so it was supposed to be this weekend once she had come back that it would be moved. Unfortunately my sister got sick. So no washing machine. I felt frustrated and started to long for home comforts. I love my flat but it’s still not quite my home. I wanted clean washing and to see my cat, and just for a time, to be a child again. On Saturday morning I woke to a text from my father-“why don’t you [come home]?”. Why don’t I? I thought, and impulsively decided to go for it.

I had a doctor’s appointment at 2pm, so I booked an afternoon train. I spent the morning cleaning and organising the flat and packing, and so after the doctors I could pretty much grab my stuff and go. I arrived in the city centre without fuss, but the city was busy and I felt myself beginning to panic as I wove through the crowds. There were too many people. Too much noise. I managed to sort out tickets and get to the platform, which was also packed. The train before mine was nearly full to the point I wondered if the station crew were going to have to start pushing people to fit, like they do in Asia. I was feeling sick and shaky at this point, and burdened by my heavy bags. I began to wonder if it was stupid, this impulsive trip. All I wanted was to do my laundry, see my cat and be nurtured, and how childish it all was. My train came and I squeezed on. I had to stand the whole way but I got home all right. My dad picked me up from the station and I couldn’t stop rambling on as we drove home. We stopped at the supermarket and drove on. Still I was nattering away, so happy to be home and to be with my dad. I didn’t get home sick like this at university. Yet I had spent my Friday night looking at pictures of my family and my cat and feeling so very alone.

I got home and we ordered takeout. We went to pick up the food and the whole shop smelled like chargrilled meat, and it took me right back to when I was living in Malaysia. I used to be able to buy a stick of chargrilled, spicy chicken with a freshly made naan and garlic sauce for very little. I used to love it as a late night snack after studying in the library for hours. I could hardly stand sitting there waiting for my food, the smell was so strong and familiar. The food in the canteen in Malaysia wasn’t all amazing, yet it was cheap and convenient. I sometimes miss being able to walk down in 5 minutes and pick up a large meal or a snack, without having to worry about price.

Anyway, after a delicious supper, I spent some time with my dad looking at his most recent pics. Then he dragged out the old family videos, much to my embarrassment. My father loved it though. In a surprising twist, it is my father suffering from empty nest, whilst my mom is fine. My dad was so happy to have me back. And it’s clear he is amazed and emotional over the fact that his little girls have grown up. He is so proud of my sister and me, but I think there is an element of sadness that we aren’t young and cute and fully dependent anymore. My father is protective, and you can tell he doesn’t quite want to let go (even if he is, this isn’t that kind of story). Look, he said, at the one video. That one (my cousin) is a vet, that one (my sister) is a chemist and that one (me) is an engineer. Who could tell at that time? He said. Which is, of course, true. I don’t think my parents really had a plan, or guidelines, they followed when raising us. They must be feeling quite relived it all turned out all right ;) My sister and I definitely surprised them at times. We both have elements of our parents in us, but I think we must have surprised our parents sometimes in just what their parenting was turning out (I believe in both Nature and Nurture.) Take that both ways – my sister and I both went through some rough phases. And of course, my father got very gooey over how cute my sister and I were, to my embarrassment and mock annoyance (“what do you mean by were?”)

Tuesday 29th September, a hotel room near London Heathrow

The next day my sister came round. Well, we picked her up and brought her home, as she was too sick to drive. She was pale and a little irritable, but otherwise good company for a sick person. Me, my dad and my sister squished onto the couch to watch some of her pics. The rest of the day followed as a quiet one spent with family and my cat, just as I had wanted. I was glad to go home after all. I needed it. I was a little sad to return to my new city, but at least the journey back was less crowded (I could sit!) and even getting from the train station to my flat turned out to be fairly painless.

Wednesday 30th September, a restaurant in London Heathrow

On Monday I went in to work, but only for a short time as I had a graduate Induction event on Tuesday and Wednesday which I was flying down to London Heathrow on Monday for. My flight was at 9pm so I didn’t feel too worried about missing it…at first. Monday was one of those days where everything, no matter how you plan it, everything goes just a little wrong. I was just a little late for the bus I wanted in the morning, so I had to wait 40 minutes until the next, and was subsequently late to work. I got home again OK, and I packed and left the house OK, but just didn’t make it to the bus stop in time and had to watch the bus I wanted pass me by. That bus was just a little early. The next was, of course, just a little late. I got on, got off, and then found myself stranded in the middle of the countryside waiting for my connection. By this point it was about 7pm. The bus was at 7.30pm. I waited, and waited and fretted if it would or would not come. But it did, and I got to the airport on time. I checked in and waited around then got my flight. The airport was so small that it was all extremely quick and easy. It was a short and relatively painless flight too and I got to London, where I exited terminal 5 and watched as the bus I wanted pulled away. Once again, I was just a little late.

Friday 2nd October, Home

I added dates and locations to this entry, to show how it’s come together. To show how hectic these past days have been, to the point I’m squeezing in quiet down time wherever I can.

Anyway, back to Monday. I waited at London Heathrow outside terminal 5 and eventually the bus came, and eventually I got to the hotel. The hotel was a lot fancier than I expected and I was a bit shocked at the room the company had let me have. It was no tiny, functional room like a Japanese business hotel. Unfortunately there was no free food, which I was really hankering for. I salivated over the room service menu then did the right then and went to take a shower and get ready for bed. I wished I hadn’t got in so late. I had to wake early the next morning, and when my alarm went off all I wanted to do was lie in the glorious hotel king size bed and continue to doze the day away. I dragged myself out with the thought of croissants and bacon and fresh fruit for breakfast at the hotel buffet, which is what did end up happening. It’s my typical hotel buffet treat…though usually I try adding more pastries.

Well, I guess the graduate Induction event was OK. I didn’t enjoy it, I found if far too stressful as a shy, anxious introvert- there were too many people there and what they were selling us was the extroverts ideal career path. But some of the talks were interesting. I also ate a lot of very good food, including over indulging in one too many fancy desserts (5 or 6 little rich morsels a meal…what), which made up for the sheer terror of it all. I did feel my confidence dip though. I had started to feel like I was beginning to settle in to my team at work, but the Induction event brought me right back to my first day- nervous, uncertain and utterly convinced that they’d made some kind of error, that it had been a mistake I was hired. It was a fairly depressing journey back, even if it was more straightforward.

I left the hotel and made the bus I wanted. I got to the airport nice and on time, and dropped my bags and went through security quick enough that I had some time to chill. I went to one of the restaurants and ordered one of the healthy looking meals to make up for all those desserts. I’m not one for salads usually, but sometimes you have to force that rabbit food down. The waiter was really sweet, and I feel bad for messing up the gratuity, even if I have a good excuse of it being my first time giving it. Now I have a salary I know it’s the proper thing to do, but I’ve not quite yet grasped it. Yes, my salary came through on Wednesday, and it wasn’t as much as I was expecting, but it was still more money than I have ever actually owned. Pretty cool.

After my meal I meandered around the duty free before boarding. It was a pleasant enough flight. The staff on my incoming flight were lovely, and then on the outgoing flight they were also really friendly and cheerful. I got back OK, and got a bus, followed swiftly by another, and got back home quickly. Much quicker than the outgoing, thats for sure.

But I was tired, and I did not really want to go in to work yesterday. I wanted to curl up in bed and stay there. I had had enough of dealing with the world to last a good while…but I went into work, and today too, and I did my best to work hard, even if I felt distracted, and demotivated, and negative. I feel a bit embarrassed about that latter one especially.

I’m glad it’s the weekend. I’m going to recharge my batteries so that next week I’ll be ready to throw myself back into work. And be more positive. I don’t hate my job, I am just living with the daily fear I’m not doing it properly, that I’m not good enough…that I’ll never be good enough. The anxious mind, that little traitorous part of my mind, is a little cow. And I found myself listening to it too much, as I retreated into myself to get through the Induction event. I need to rest and recover, as if with a wound to let heal. It will be OK though, of course. It has to be.

Saturday 3rd October, Home

Post title is Richard Siken again. During my foundation year I’d read through Crush on the train journey, again and again, and it soon became an embodiment of my fear and anxiety of that time. That book got me through that difficult year, where nothing was certain, and I was terrified for my future. And now once again I find myself on public transport, a bus this time, holding back tears as I read through those now familiar words. Once again, I find myself feeling those conflicted feelings – grateful to have been given a chance, pleased with my progress, but terrified of what comes next, of stumbling and ruining it all. A certain desperation, moving forward bravely, trying to find something, a clarity perhaps, or perhaps just a freedom from this constant anxiety and self-doubt. It’s funny how certain things come to represent certain other things and this is it with Crush.

I try to read through War of the Foxes the same way but it lacks the intensity, the raw grief, desperation, and let’s face it, misery of Crush. It’s still beautiful, with moments where the darkness of Crush shines through, but its themes are different and I can’t quite sink into it the same way I sunk into Crush. In the beautiful foreword to Crush by Louise Gluck, which I always read first before re-reading the book, she talks about the ferocity of Crush, the way it sinks its teeth into you. War of the Foxes sadly hasn’t done that for me. That didn’t stop me from purchasing the limited edition of it, but that was more to support Richard Siken and his agency, to give back something for what Crush has given me. It didn’t stop me from wishing there was a limited edition of Crush though, with the original, unedited poems (how I wish there was an unedited collection of the works that made it into crush!)

Post Title: Richard Siken - Boot Theory

Forwards

It’s been a while since I blogged, hasn’t it? Typical that I would go on an unintentional blogging hiatus after splashing the front page with my cooking disasters. Typical, and a little embarassing.

I’ve since made another Spicery meal which turned out much better but I haven’t had time to do a write up since starting work. Yep, I’ve now been a graduate electrical engineer for two weeks. It’s been scary and overwhelming and I could go on, but we’ve all been there, starting work for the first time, so I’m sure you’ll understand. Besides, I know I can’t talk about work here. And mostly, I don’t want to write yet another whiny entry complaining about things. In many ways I’m liking my job, I’m amazed and grateful to have it, and I’m learning so much, about things that interest me. And there has been a bunch of other good stuff happening. So I’m going to make this entry a list of positives from these past couple of weeks.

(And hopefully stop writing like this is a report , too)

→ Just before I started work, my parents came round. My mom fell hard for my new place, and whilst me and my dad went off to get lost in a massive ASDA superstore, my mom sat at home in the sun streaming through the living room windows with a magazine. Ok, so she was pretty awesome and cleaned my bathroom too. Once my dad and I got back we set about building some more furniture, then I made food whilst my dad put the finishing touches. It was a nice day, and so much better than sitting around fretting about work. I am so grateful for my family right now. My dad texts or phones me everyday to ask how my day was, and it makes me feel so happy and motivated to hear the pride in his voice. My mom too often calls and reassures me that it’s all going to be OK, and I don’t quite believe her, but I need to hear it anyway.

→ I am in love with my new apartment. I have discovered its bad secret- the bathroom. The shower isn’t electric, and the piping isn’t flush, leaving dark crevices to feed the imagination. The first time I used my shower the water wouldn’t go hot and then a huge spider crawled up from somewhere, and this has marred further experiences. The shower is cramped, and there are mould issues, and I keep waiting for something to crawl out at me. Besides that, I still have massive amounts of space, I have proper, timed, central heating for the first time in 4 years and it is glorious (so cozy). My dad built me a massive bookshelf that day and my lounge looks so homey now, my kitchen is lovely to cook in, I have a vanity table of sorts in my bedroom and it feels real fancy to sit down to do my skin, and my study is great too. The neighbour can play his TV on loud for hours. The bathroom is creepy. But otherwise I’m in love. I feel so relieved and safe when I come home after a long, tiring day. I can shut the door to the world and be alone in my own place. My little retreat against outside, just like I wanted.

→ I’ve still not adjusted to my new city, forever annoyed at its public transport, but starting to settle in. I think I like it here, and I’ve not found myself missing home too much.

→ I do miss my cat though. I was really worried about her but now I can safely say- my cat is well! Context: I mentioned she was underweight and had fleas, so my parents took her back to the vet to check on both issues. She still had fleas, but less. What was really concerning is that she had lost even more weight. Poor kitty had to undergo a blood test to check for bad things. Thankfully the results came back just fine. It may be the fleas distressing her, and the medication we were using to treat them is being changed. Apart from that she’s fine. My dad decided to put her on senior cat food though and this makes me a bit sad. My little kitty is now a senior kitty. She’s still lively but she’s vulnerable now. I just try to reassure myself that she’s well now, and not to think of the future too much. I’m sure she will live until she’s 15+.

→ Last Friday I totally messed up my commute and long story short I ended up talking to a fellow commuter. It was a wierd, messed up evening but for the first time, I realised how lonely I was. I found myself chatting away to this person, talking and laughing and spilling out things I maybe shouldn’t. Be he was interested. And he himself was interesting. And he helped me to get home, and before we parted he gave me his number and now I don’t know what to do. It was a lovely, if surreal, evening and I don’t want it to be ruined by an awkward second meeting. But I want to make friends. I need to figure out a way to make this into something. I will.

→ I have been eating well. I think actually I’ve been doing an OK job looking after myself in general. I’ve been struggling to adjust to work, that 9-5 structure, but I’ve been trying to go to bed early so I can wake up early. Not always succeeded, to embarassing results. And I’m still tired from the long commute and from well, hard work, but I’ve mostly been doing OK. And I’ve been sticking to my goal to one decent meal a day. Been comfort eating a little, but I try and schedule it to Friday nights and Saturday, and then the rest of the week I am reasonably disciplined. I’ve been relying on ready meals and short cuts so I do hope I can get more home cooked food into me. Once I’m more settled though. I try to accept now isn’t the time to put too much pressure on myself to fully recover from my disordered eating habits. And I’m trying to focus on how much better I am compared to before, compared to focusing on how much further I have to go.

→ Talking about discipline, I’ve been super careful with my money lately. No impulse purchases. No excessive spending on comfort food. (My two weaknesses.) hopefully I can keep it up!

→ On Wednesday I went to the open day for language evening courses at a local university. I was super nervous and could barely even speak English to the tutor, let alone Japanese, so I was shocked when he recommended me for the intermediate Japanese classes. Shocked and very relieved. And happy. He said that my kanji weren’t quite up to speed and my vocab was a bit shaky, but my understanding was at a high level. I signed up then and there. Classes start early October. I’ve got so much cramming to do before then and I’m a bit nervous about whether I’ll fit in or have to drop a level (how embarassing!) But I’m super excited. I love Japanese. There’s no real purpose to me learning it but that and I refuse to feel bad about that. I was talking to someone before the tutor could see me and she was saying how she had learnt the language years ago, had stopped, but found she missed it so was starting again now. I know if I stopped learning Japanese I’d miss it. Besides, its a good way to settle into my new city isn’t it? I’ll be able to interact with a bunch of different people outside work and that will be good for me. It will also be good to have something to do outside moping around at home after work.

So, things aren’t too bad. I’m a nervous wreck, anxious to the point I can’t sleep properly and my head hurts, but objectively things are going just fine. I’m going to try get that Spicery post up, and I’ve got some other bits and pieces planned, but right now my focus is work and settling into my new city, so I can’t promise anything.

Heaving heart, full of pain

→I had my driving test last Thursday. My first driving test, I should say. I did not pass. It was a horrible experience. I was so nervous that I couldn’t react properly. I could mostly drive- I made very few minor mistakes- but nerves made it hard to think and made me panicky and quick to overreact. So I made too many big mistakes to do with awareness and planning. Truthfully, I failed right at the beginning. I swung out the parking space, right on collision course for another car. It only went down hill from there. I could feel myself failing, and on top of that I knew I had messed up right at the beginning and had few chances left to improve. Afterwards I just wanted to cry. I can drive! I could easily drive myself to work and back, which is one of the few reasons I am learning, I could drive to the hospital if need be, which is the other. But I cannot drive under test conditions. Where to go from here? I know I need to carry on, try again, get an instructor in my new city and try it here, but I feel helpless. My main problem is anxiety and that isn’t something an instructor can fix. I have been learning to drive for a long time, but I am as skittish as a new driver. It is quite frankly embarassing. And frustrating. I always try to think that if I work hard enough, nothing will stand in my way. Sometimes I think I only got through university through sheer force of will, from stubborn determination. That was certainly how I got into university, that’s for sure. But here is something where hard work means nothing. Where it is quite simply down to luck and managing your emotions. I am not very good at the latter, and I don’t seem to have a lot of the former when it comes to this.

→ I moved to my new city on Friday. My father hired a van to take me. One big van fully loaded, one long journey, a lot of exhausting heavy lifting (up two flights of stairs!) to empty said van, and then I was begging my father not to leave. Even though I have been itching to get out from living with my parents, I was still conscious of being left to fend for myself, all alone in a big new city. Moving also made the fact I am going to have go start work soon feel more imminent and more real. I phoned my mother up, seeking comfort. But there is no sugar coating it. I have to grow up now. I have got be independent, look after myself (and my finances), live the 9-5 life to earn a living just like everyone else. “Aren’t you excited to have a nice new flat?” My father asked. I thought about it a moment. “Yes, but I am also aware of the cost of it,” I replied, and added “that I am going to have to earn it now. And try not to get fired to keep it.” My father smiled, indulgent. “That’s what everyone else has to do.” Yes but, it’s overwhelming how much is changing right now- new city, new job, driving, and all the people around me too. I know what I need to do but….

→ I am definitely playing the “if I just pretend it isn’t happening, then it isn’t” , the “if I just will it enough, if I just wish hard enough for time to stop, then it will” game right now. When we brought our cat inside our house for the first time she immediately darted under the kitchen cupboards, where she mostly stayed for about two weeks. I want to burrow myself somewhere where I cannot be reached, somewhere where the whole world disappears. I am terrified.

→ I am somewhat embarrassed to say I’ve not done a lot since moving in, and there are still boxes and bubble wrap and stuff everywhere. It’s a mess. It feels weird, and uncomfortable. I keep meaning to go to one room, and ending up in another. I keep having to scratch through boxes to find things, have to substitute if I fail to do so. I am living off ready meals and tinned food, my kitchen usable, but too unfamiliar. I find myself with a full sized kitchen, but missing my old tiny kitchen, the setup of it, how I knew where everything was and could move around my kitchen with ease. I’m not ready to cook in an environment so unfamiliar. Its a similar story in other rooms to be honest. I am taking each task, every familiar everyday thing now rendered strange and different, and taking them one at time, trying to ease into it. Trying to settle in slowly, so it becomes less scary and overwhelming. Tomorrow, maybe I will be ready to face my kitchen tomorrow. I have already just about conquered my bedroom, my bathroom and my study. Just the kitchen and living room to go, so I’ll have to face one or both sooner or later.

→ Yes, I have all this space. I have: a landing, a kitchen, a study and spare bedroom, a bedroom, a lounge and dining room combo. To be honest, with all my stuff the individual rooms don’t feel that big, but there sure are a lot of rooms. It’s quite amazing. I walked out my study earlier and realised how little space I took up this evening, how much black, empty space was around me. It’s amazing that it’s mine.

Because nothing is forever

The summer is going past at breathtaking speed. I am feeling overwhelmed by all the changes going on in my life right now, and struggling to keep track of it all. I want to sit down and write but I don’t even know where to begin,and then the next thing happens, and the next.

—

I went to my new city again, and this time I was successful in finding a place to live there. I saw a flat I liked and was already so done with house searching, that I asked to apply for it right then and there, and was allowed to do so. A few weeks of paperwork and sorting out references (and much more time spent on the phone than I really feel comfortable with) I have a flat to live in. Its a first floor apartment, two bedrooms, set in communal gardens, in a nice area of the city, in a quiet development surrounded by other flats that all look exactly the same, but white washed walls with red details and well maintained gardens means its attractive. Its close to a main road so I should be able to get the city center and work without any trouble. The flat has plenty of windows to let in the light and there is a full sized kitchen, and thus a full sized fridge which means I will finally have a freezer.(My old house did not and life without being able to freeze meals or have frozen vegetables was possible, but annoying.) There are wooden floors in most of the room and a built in cupboard in the bedroom (I love built in cupboards – my room in my parents house and my uni house both had them, coincidentally, so I am glad to carry on the trend.) It was love at first sight, and I am a bit worried that the flat harbors some terrible secret I didn’t catch during that brief viewing – perhaps a really loud neighbor, a mold problem, especially cold and drafty in the winter, large windows but no light. I am very nervous about it. But also very excited to have my own place, having started to really panic about how terrible house hunting was going and beginning to resign myself to settle for a house that wasn’t quite right or deal with a house share for a while. But no, I will be living on my own in a really nice place. I will have my own space, and I do have a lot of furniture, but I’ve already got plans to take my artwork and hang it up, to bring my CDs and Hi-Fi, to buy a really nice bookcase, to really make it into my home in a way that my old place was not quite. As settled as I felt in my last house, it was always a temporary place and I lived in it on a student budget. Now I look at this place as somewhere more permanent to settle down in, to make my own …with the help of a salary. ;)

—

I have been living with my parents these past few weeks. My father came to pick me up from my old city with a ridiculously large van, in which my entire house was packed up into, then there was a mass scramble to get the place clean before handing it over to the letting agents and driving away. Just like that, I left behind what had been my life. Well, packing was terrible and I left it all too late so I’m sure I’ll never find anything again, and my father was angry for me not having packed, and angry because my house was untidy. Meanwhile, I was stressed and overwhelmed by packing, and reacting to him, so actually it wasn’t pleasant, and it was a long two days to get it all done. But it got done and my full deposit on my old house is being returned, so it must have been done well despite being so last minute.

Living with my parents hasn’t been too bad, a little stifling as to be expected, but also nice not having to worry as much about bills and chores and food. There are other people to share the burden with. I am enjoying lazying around and eating in excess, because there is always food here.

I am also not looking forward to moving to a new city and starting work. Panicking is putting it mildly. I am desperately trying to ignore the passing days and how the time between then and now is narrowing so quickly.

—

Learning to drive is not going well and my test is next week, but I am resigned to not passing it and having to put up with public transport for a longer while. I can get the bus to work, well two buses, and it will take an hour, but I have commuted for an hour and a half before, I remind myself, and was always on time then, so I can do it. I can do it and am fine with it. But my parents are expecting me to pass first time and that I cannot handle.

—

As a belated birthday trip, my sister took me to the aquarium which was as fun as ever, and then we went shopping. I think we shopped from about 2pm until 8pm. We were absolutely on a mission to find nice work clothes, the both of us, as well as a few other things. Powered by a delicious lunch of American Diner Food (Hotdogs/burgers/fries/shakes) we shopped and shopped and burned through crazy amounts of money. I now have a killer work wardrobe, even if I say so myself. My sister guided me as to what looked good and was appropriate both for work and for my age. I thus now have two skirts, a handful of dresses, nice shirts and tops, and a couple of pairs of pants for work. All of it in materials I can handle or loose enough to utilize cotton camisoles and slip dresses underneath. (I am allergic to polyester and most synthetics, which usually makes shopping hard, but as it turns out when you have the money, and you take the time to really hunt through the shops, it is possible to build a work wardrobe around this issue.)

—

I also bought perfume for the first time. My mom says its the grown up thing to do, to wear a light, subtle scent. It’s so strange, wearing those clothes, doing my makeup just so, putting on perfume. It doesn’t feel like me. But this is how I want to present myself. No, I need to present myself well in my new role. I need to look put together and professional. I know that. Its just so strange.

—

My mother and I took the cat to the vet the other day, and it was uncertain whether it was the cat or myself who was the most anxious. I took the cat and put her in her cage and sat with her in the car, and she protested the entire time. Sitting in the vets, she continued to protest loudly. (At least we were the only ones in the vet, and there were no dogs) She was good during the appointment though. And she was healthy – apart from a flea problem, and the fact that she has lost 1/4 of her body weight. This shocked us. She has also changed color. This surprised the vet.

Our cat came to us from a friend of my mothers, who had kept the cat indoors mostly. When she came to us, she was a black cat, a little plump, very shy and scared of men in particular (or maybe just my father, who is very big and very tall), wouldn’t go outside at all. When we installed a cat flap for her we had to work hard to coax her outdoors. Now, this summer, we have hardly seen her. She comes in to eat, but spends her days outdoors. She is confident, no longer scared of men (she loves my father). She is playful and friendly when she feels like it. She has thinned down and her coat has turned what we call a coca-cola color – dark red, turning redder or even orange in bright light, still just about black in the dark. Sometimes it feels like we’ve ended up with a changeling cat, a creature entirely different from what we originally had. We love her to death, but she is constantly surprising us with her growth.

“There should be just one safe place in the world, I mean this world, I’m still talking about this world”.

My tenancy at my current home ends the end of July, which means I am back to house hunting again. It’s proving to be stressful, with few properties in my budget in the areas I want, and with those few properties getting snapped up very quickly. I went to visit my new city last week. Due to limited funds I decided to take the bus there and back again, two and a half hours there, two hours back, just £10 plus minor booking fees. Rather a bargain. Also due to limited funds, and a lack of willingness to repeat the trip numerous times, I packed in as many appointments as I could that one day. This was a mistake in many ways. My first appointment was at 11am, which meant I would have to get to the city center by 10am in order to get to its suburbs on time for the viewing. This meant I had to wake up at 5am to leave the house at 6am to get the bus to get to my city center to get the bus to the new city center. As you could expect, this was no fun at all. But I succeeded in waking up and meeting every bus. It was an uneventful set of bus journeys and I got the city at 10am, right on time. I bought a greasy breakfast as a treat and sat to wait to get the next bus. Only to receive a call telling me my appointment had been cancelled. I was too tired and it was too crowded to really talk, so I couldn’t chew them out for this, but I sent them very bad thoughts the rest of the day.

I had a feeling then that this day going to go wrong. And it did. Go wrong. In all ways. I got the wrong bus, used up my money buying the day rider ticket for the wrong bus network, got lost trying to find my second appointment, was late to my third appointment due to messing up the buses again, was late the fourth appointment due to a combination of messing up the buses and getting lost. It was a big mess. I was confused, I was spending way more money on buses than I needed to, and probably more time too. I was cold and wet, it was so cold up north compared to the midlands that at one point I was shivering. Worse, none of the houses stood out to me. I ended up coming home, exhausted and disappointed. The only good thing about the day was the fact that my sister let me text her throughout in order to vent. Oh, but my phone went flat at some point in the day too (and it had my return bus journey ticket on it, although thankfully the service center was still open and they could print a ticket for me.) Navigating a new city and its bus network without gps is no fun. This was probably why that last appointment went so, so wrong.

I thought to settle on one of the houses, but I reluctantly agreed with my sister to try and find something else. So I’m going back this Saturday and am hoping that neither of the places I picked to view gets nabbed before I can get to them, and that one of them proves to be the one. This is proving to be much worse than the last time I looked for a rental. Then I went on one trip, and found this house I’m in now. Perhaps the fact that it was my first time helped? Beginners luck? Or maybe it was just that my standards were low as I was coming from university dorms. Now I am in a house I like and an area I like and comparing everything to it. I try not to be fussy, but there are certain things I don’t want to compromise on. If I’m going to be living in a new city, starting a new job, I need a place I feel comfortable in, so that I can make it into a safe place to retreat to after a long day. My home is my fortress against the world.

It is nerve-wracking to think of moving home soon when I don’t yet have anywhere to later move out to, with my job is starting in September.

Since then I have gotten sick so have spent the past few days in a daze. I need to be better though as it’s my birthday tomorrow (well, later today as posting this past midnight), and I have some things planned. My dad is coming to visit tomorrow and I am excited. Soon, I shall meet up with my sister too. So it’s not all bad, as long as I don’t think too hard about next month, or any of the months after that.

Post Title: Richard Siken - Road Music

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