(It's an Avenue Q reference)
When I left my flat, almost a year ago, I never imagined that a year later I would be sat in the study come junk room in my parents' house typing this blog. At the time, I was convinced that COVID 19 was going to go the same way as SARS and the other viruses that have happened over the last few years. It was going to be a whole lot of panic and then it would turn out to be nothing. Thankfully, I was quick to admit that I was wrong.
Although there have been times in this year where I have wanted somewhere to escape to - the dog snores really loudly, we all get on each other's nerves at the best of times and it's been a year with everyone else on furlough for a stretch - except for the times I went back there to pack down, clean up and generally get ready to let go of the flat, I haven't really missed that specific place, and so it makes me feel as though the time was right to leave it, even if I feel the universe kind of forced me into it. Universe, to note, next time, smaller signals are fine, okay?
There have been points in the pandemic where I have looked over Rightmove and seen a couple of flats in my brother's building up for sale and thought about the idea of buying one, but I also looked at some of the studios set out as a one-bedroom flat on Salford Quays and thought about how I could squash all of the things I actually needed into them. Particularly when you were allowed bubbles. The idea of being able to see my family but also get a bit of distance from them was a blissful thought, but it was a thought which ended up coming to nothing because the simple fact of the matter is I have too much stuff and I need too much space.
On the night before I left 'Old Flat' in Surrey, I managed to hand off three large pieces of furniture which I no longer needed to someone whose son had just got his first place and was stuck for furniture. It meant that it was less to pack into the van, less to store, and no need for a trip to the tip or a bonfire - I wanted the bonfire - to get rid of the ugly as anything sofa which had become a focal point for my rage and dissatisfaction with the world. I cannot tell you how much better I felt when that sofa was out of my life. Even with all of that stuff out, there was a lot of stuff in the van and then subsequently in my storage unit, which will then have to go into another van before it finally finds a fixed abode back with me. Thinking about how to fit all of that stuff into a flat gives me nightmares and heart palpitations, so the plans for an apartment have needed to either be scaled up, or scrapped. Now that we're getting to the stage where things are reopening and life can restart, I'm having to look at options because I can't just be working from home at my parents' house forever, so some serious decisions need to be made, and I need to start being a fully-fledged adult again, and quite frankly, that is terrifying, but it is life, everyone does it and everyone finds the things that they struggle with, and there is only one way to do it, and that is to just do it and get through it.
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