This isn’t exactly a food or travel post – although I have travelled to a new home to write this.
I’m also mildy tipsy, having just shared a couple of pints and a bottle of wine with one of Lauren’s friends (she’s in Bali and i’m alone, sob), and hey everyone knows the best blog posts come when you’re a few units over your daily allowance right? I’m sure I won’t wake up and regret this in the morning…
Anyway, I write this from a flat in Camberwell, having taken the leap of getting a new job and a new home in the last few weeks. Huh, when I write it like that it sounds like a big life step. I think I have been avoiding thinking about it to avoid freaking out.
It all started in June.
Lauren and I were always going to move to London – a combination of her need to move for work (she does fashion, darling) to my need to move out of my parents’ home at the ripe old age of 26 led us here. We’d talked about it for so long that I almost forgot it was a reality, til one day in June. People at (old) work had been asking how the flat and job hunt had been going when it hit me…I’d done fuck all.
A phonecall to my mum and a few frantic job applications later, I’d at least made a start. I literally sat at work and cried cos I was so stressed. lolololol at Past Tilly everyone, what a weiner.
Fast forward to the end of June and I’d been invited in for two job applications at different companies. TWO. This was more than my small woman brain could handle. Lauren and I confidently thought it would be a good idea to combine the trip to London for these interviews with various flat viewings.
I had an interview on the Monday for a job which I eventually would decline, and we saw various flats, which actually turned out to be a logistical nightmare. Who knew that travelling round London assessing where we might live for the next year-or-more whilst simultaneously trying to impress various people and retain a lot of information in my head would be hard? We stayed at a friend’s house for the night, went to Nandos, and I’m pretty sure I made 0 sense the entire time whilst I tried to eat my chicken and retain a sense of normality.
By day 2 we were ready to give up – prepared to live in a cardboard box or remain perennially unemployed, or both if it would mean that the logistical nightmare of my life would be over.
Fortunately, a helpful estate agent called Michael happened to have a flat on that we might be interested in…
We ambled through Camberwell Green and down the road to (what would eventually become) our flat. I walked in the door and whether it was instinct or a mixture of stress and acceptance, I knew we would live here. We had a cheeky look around and then Lauren and I made our excuses, went to Costa and frantically texted friends to see if they knew anything about Camberwell.
Opinions were generally relatively positive, and I had an interview in an hour (obvs) so we burst back into the Estate Agents and signed the contract, then I took an Uber to my interview. God, even typing it makes me stressed.
As you may have guessed, I was successful in my interview and we were successful in securing the flat. Lauren is currently off traveling and being sassy in Bali, so I’m sitting in the flat surrounded by candles and pizza and wine and the soothing tones of Drake, and thought I’d explain the story of how this came to be.
I hope it gives you confidence that your life could change in 2 months too. I can’t wait for Lauren to come (to what is now) home and share some wine with me. Mind you, she might insist that I turn Drake off…