6 Further Things I Have Learnt Since Living Alone.

This week represents six months since I moved into my first flat on my own. A lot of changes have taken place in that time and I’m attempting to constantly remind myself of how lucky I am. There are a number of lessons I have learnt since I moved out which were earlier documented here and here but on the six month anniversary of my freedom, I felt it was only fair to drop six more fact-bombs from the hull of my brain.

1. Heat doesn’t grow on trees.
It’s really fucking cold in here. The joyous days of walking about all day in my birthday suit at the disgust of the neighbours as I always seemed to be picking things up off the floor is over. I’m writing this post from safely within the high-tog confines of my duvet. There’s no way I’m going out there. There’s wolves and shit.
My heating bills haven’t been too bad but I can definitely understand why we lose so many of our senior citizens in the winter months.
It also doesn’t help that my windows are made of PVA glue and good intentions. It’s alright, I’ve got a window man coming round this week.

2. You don’t need human interaction when you have BBC iPlayer.
There’s something incredibly sad about sitting and staring at the idiot box for hours but when there is so much choice of immersive shit to lose yourself to, it becomes understandable. I’ve worked my way through all of Doctor Who, Sonic Highways and pretty much anything to do with music that can be slammed into their category boxes. I find myself talking to Capaldi as he winds his way through jungles of Central London or the end of the universe or whatever. It’s great. Who needs people?

3. Moving a bookshelf can completely change your perspective on shit.
Last weekend I moved a bookshelf. It completely changed my perspective on shit. I’m always going on about only keeping the things that either serve a purpose or bring me pleasure but I’m constantly coming up against these pockets of resistance. I decided to move the thin bookshelf in the corner of my lounge to my bedroom, partly so I had more space in the lounge but mostly so I had better access to wood during the real winter months when the freeze came. As I was clearing off the bookshelf I realised that I didn’t want to put about 80% of it back on, so I didn’t. I gave it to charity or chucked it and I’m left with a bookshelf which just shows off the nice things I do have; photographs with my friends and family, my typewriter, a ukulele. It’s much better.

4. Lightbulbs always need replacing.
These guys. These fucking guys. I have those little halogen circular jobbies through most of the flat. There are seven in total. The life expectancy of these bulbs is less than that of a fruitfly. I feel like I’m playing a twisted version of Whack-A-Mole for the time I spend staring up at the ceiling and trying to get the bayonet fitting to sit correctly. That’s something they don’t tell you about moving out or living alone, lightbulbs are bullshit. Luckily, Amazon will deliver a box of ten next day delivery so you don’t even have to go to the coronership, you can just sit in the dark and wait with a grin on your face.

5. Food and food shopping may become a chore.
I haven’t been food shopping in two weeks. I don’t know if that’s a normal amount of time to not go food shopping for but it seems excessive. My cupboards are essentially bare, especially the snack cupboard. The problem is that it becomes very difficult to be inspired when you don’t have anyone to do it for. Should I be doing it for myself? I will eat like a slob and have no concerns over my appearance. As long as when I leave the shirt I’ve got quite a nice shirt on then I consider myself to be a success. Five portions of fruit and veg a day? Not when Sainsburys is ten minutes away and I can chew on this pencil.

6. Things that initially seem a bargain are now broken.
I bought a kettle when I moved in. That’s a normal thing to happen. It exploded this morning and smelt like bacon crisps. I remember thinking that it would do for the time being. I didn’t realise how gutting it would be to see it go. I blame myself. I hadn’t been paying it the same attention. It seemed to be developing a crust. The lesson here is that if you act like a cheap bastard you can expect the shitty portion. I’m realising that now as I put a saucepan of water on the stove to make myself a tea.