I am a creature of habit. I like to find things in the same place I left them a month ago, I hate it when supermarkets suddenly decide to change the position of stuff so I can no longer find anything without becoming cranky first, and I don’t like to change the order of the bookmarks in my browser. Changing everything all of a sudden has got to be one of my worst nightmares and seeing it unraveling this past week makes me feel I am no longer in control. Life as I knew it changed last Monday, which was when I got the keys to my new flat.
As I have only lived in three houses up to the age of 30, I find it more than painful to cope with the reality of waking up and seeing unfamiliar walls and stuff around me. I have been sleeping in the new bed for a couple of nights and I still wake up thinking I’m going to take left to go to the bathroom. It appears that you need to turn right in the current flat, so I’m accepting the learning curve with a sigh. The problem is there are too many things to remember and I find myself glued to my beloved laptop once again, simply because it’s the most familiar thing I brought with me into the new place.
The new flat brings other challenges, some of which people tend to dismiss with a laugh. I myself don’t consider it funny that I have to face a 10-minute walk to get to the nearest place that provides something more to eat than the milk and eggs generously provided by the convenience store located (conveniently, how else) at the corner of my new street. I find myself being hungry all the time since I moved here and I blame the fact that I can no longer pop into Lidl’s in less than two minutes and come back on my red, slightly depressing couch, with some freshly baked paninis of questionable quality to make a sandwich with. I take it I need to learn the meaning of the word ‘stocking’ around here.
On the positive side, the flat is lovely, I have a whole room with a large corner desk for myself, which is a first for me. Yes, I’m 30 and I never had a room just for myself. When I think about it, it explains a lot about my personality. Hopefully I’ll use the room for writing, not just eating and watching shitty TV shows. Oh, and I live on the ground floor now, which is also a first. How does one go about his or her day without spying on the people passing under the windows is a mystery that is yet to be solved.