I have a house. My own house… Well, a house I rent… Same Thing Really.
I moved in on Saturday, had my first sensation of feeling locked out, as I’d arrived earlier than I had previously intended, unknown to my flatmate who possessed the keys. After checking all of the doors – you can gain access to the garden without going through the house, and possibly not something I should be broadcasting, just in case some strange people decide it’s a good idea to just sleep in my garden, but then again, this is Falmouth, not London, so who really acts like that? – to no success whatsoever, I just dumped all of my stuff under the decking – yes, I have decking now, I’ve hit the big time – I ran away… to the shop down the road to get all the essentials in life… So just tea bags and milk (shout out to tea buddies, aka Clob + Flo)…
When I eventually came back, I discovered that my flatmate had arrived, and was talking to one of new neighbours. I was then allowed into the fortress, and could finally unpack all of the rubbish which I could carry on my train journey from Paddington that day. I have the smallest room, with an… interesting, brown-coloured carpet, and an advantageous view above the front door, so I can spy on all the people who think they can gain access to this new world of mine… Beware.
So, I’ve been here just over a full day now, and I have many more stories which I still have yet to tell, but they can be saved for another time. Have fun doing whatever you’re doing. If you’re on holiday, good for you, you’re now one of us… Whoever “us” are (the most grammatically suspect sentence I’ve written in a while). And, if you’re still in school, well, good luck… Try not to become too insane…
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