It is day 10 in the Big Brother house (read: new student accommodation) and things are not running smoothly, in any sense. Without a doubt I do love our new student house – we christened it ‘Dream House’ (and considered officially changing it before realising the postman would probably hate us) for a reason. Saying this, small things like no internet and now, no hot water, have subtly changed my opinion in the short term.
There’s nothing quite like waking up to a hot shower and a warm house – neither of which I have really experienced so far in the now ironically named Dream House. As soon as our shower started working, our hot water broke. It’s like God (or maybe our landlord) is testing us to see how long we can last without screaming. I would not be surprised to look into the corners of the rooms and see mini eye shaped cameras watching us.
All of this makes out like I don’t like living there, which would be a lie. Despite having permanently cold feet and draining my entire 3G allowance in less than a week, I love it. Living with my friends means endless hours watching Friends and Skins, and sleepily trailing upstairs at midnight rather than trekking it home across Endcliffe to go to bed. I can wear pjs to my heart’s content without having to worry about what people will think of me walking around public doing so. Even small things, like the food shop, are noticeably more invigorating when living in your own house; who knew that buying onions could be so exciting until you’ve invested in an onion box? I feel like we’re only one step away from investing in a mortgage together.
We haven’t yet quite mastered the washing machine, and learning how to use a gas oven did take a bit of improvisation (whilst holding my hair back to stop myself burning to death) but it is fabulous to have finally unpacked my endless clothes and know I won’t have to move them ever again (or at least for a few months). We have had many a cliche evening of eating dinner together curled up on the sofa watching DVDs with blankets – I feel like if nothing else, Dream House is making me out to feel like a real girl, although we haven’t all had a pillow fight quite yet.
The contrast from living in a house to being in student flats is hilarious – instead of a £50 fine for setting of smoke alarms, we just get a slight headache and charred food. It’s amazing. There are no worries of security turning up spontaneously at a party (without invitation, of course) and the prospect of having no annoying neighbours is nothing short of a miracle.
Now, as soon as we have wifi, a parking permit for my car, a fixed boiler, shower and hot water, it’ll be perfect…