One of the *enter sarcastic tone here* joys of coming to the end of your first year at university (“the end” – so not cool) is the need to find somewhere to live next year.
It’s a huge deal.
First of all there’s the drama of who to live with. Thankfully, I’ve had this sorted since approximately the end of fresher’s week.
Once you’ve got that down you need to focus on the where. And this is where it gets particularly crazy.
People panic (lots) and freak out (completely).
You turn up to viewings and people have taxis booked and waiting outside to take them to the agency so they can claim the flat.
Thirty people charge in to on little property and you’ve only seen the storage cupboard when the guy who got in first is already out the door and on his way to put the deposit down.
You see an amazing flat at one price, then another a few doors down in a far worse state but a higher price.
You set your heart on somewhere only to get a call an hour before you view it to tell you its already gone.
You’ve got to make some very grown-up decisions, very quickly, without mummy and daddy.
Basically, its one of the most stressful things I’ve ever had to do!
It got to a point last week when I was ready to give up. I was sick of trawling websites and calling agencies and fighting with people to get in the door and getting my hopes up only to have them smashed and was ready to call it a day and find myself some nice cardboard boxes.
But you’ve got to keep going.
So I made another viewing appointment for a place on Friday.
We went. It was perfect. We got it.
I have a flat!!
The relief and joy as we left that office on Friday was huge. We skipped down the street, jumped around a lot, shouted, sang, laughed. Giddy doesn’t go far enough.
And it’s beautiful, in a perfect location, bang on budget.
All those one’s I had my heart set on before clearly weren’t meant to be – God had this one up his sleeve the whole time!