So me and R are settling into our new abode.
It’s exciting. I feel so grown up.
In my head, our lives from now on will be filled with domestic bliss.
When really we haven’t even fully unpacked yet…
We managed to find a good TV on eBay for a bargain £5. After getting lost and circling the seller's house for a good 10 minutes, we managed to pull up and they helped moved it into our car for us.
We drove back to our new flat and pulled up, we opened the boot and stared at our glorious new TV, pondering how to move it.
I have faith that this new TV is in fact the heaviest item to ever exist in my universe.
From the boot of our tiny little Ford, this monster hunk of technology stared blankly up at us. There was no way we could budge it. We were just considering knocking on the door of our unknown neighbours to beg for help, when we were saved.
Lumbering up the drive way, came our land lady.
I must mention…our land lady is the henchest woman, possibly in the world. Why she isn’t in the Olympic weight lifting this year I’ve no idea.
Over she came, asked us little wilting femmes if we needed help, grabbed the TV and wandered off in the direction of our flat.
This rekindled an old discussion between me and R. Was Land Lady gay? Now this isn’t solely based on her uber strength. For example, when R and I were first looking for houses, we were acting very un-gay for fear of being denied a lease by some homophobe, but Land Lady instantly asked if we were a couple and would we be sharing a room? Now, most straight people I know likely wouldn’t have jumped to the conclusion of 2 girls being a couple if they were enquiring about sharing a flat, but Land Lady was there like a shot.
More investigation is needed I feel.
Now on our first night, me and R settled down in our bed under a single tiny sheet, as we had forgotten to buy any bedding, and tried to drift off. This was when we discovered that we happen to live beneath an apparently very large family of Indians….with children. We were treated that night to hours of Bollywood music floating down through our open window along with the pattering of children’s feet through the ceiling.
But the flat is nice. And I am enjoying it immensely. After weeks of living at our parents and sneakily trying to have quiet sex while my parents are watching TV downstairs, this is utter bliss.
I hope when I am older and I have children of my own, I will remember the trials of being a teenager/young adult and wanting some alone time with my partner and allow them a lock on their door or obviously leave every evening or so, loudly calling up the stairs that I was going to be out for an hour…neither of these things happened in my house.
I also will firmly make sure that I am never this parent.