So, as I take stock of my position in life, two years after making the big move to the big smoke, there seems to be one little piece of gravel in the sock of my contentment.
Job - could be better, but what job couldn’t?
Romance - after a long dry spell, have walking, talking girlfriend.
Social life - fine and dandy - new friends, old friends, co-workers - crazy fun all round.
Habitation - Ah.
I live in a 2.5 bedroom house, with two other guys. It’s a nice house - new kitchen, reasonable lounge, the housemate dynamics work really well. Unfortunately, I’m in the half-bedroom. It fits one bed lengthways and one chest of drawers (making an L with the bed) athwart. The lack of space initially fitted in well with my having neither girlfriend nor many material possessions. The one bookshelf is crammed with my books, my stereo perches atop my chest of drawers, where my shirts, hanging from the rail above, waft it gently in the breeze from the speakers. My narrow single bed is 5 ft of the ground, and bulky objects such as the suitcase I came with nestle snugly beneath it. As yet, the precariously balanced books have yet to plummet onto my head while sleeping, testimony to the brick-stacking skills I learned in the nursery. Yet, despite the picture of snug bliss I have painted here, I find myself growing discontent with this cosy little nook.
Mainly, this is a girlfriend issue - some words were exchanged regarding the importance of tidiness vs the impossibility of excluding the floor’s vital storage capabilities from the overall stowage plan; the narrowness of the bed, at first so cosy when shared has but recently resulted in my waking with a spine twisted through a particularly unholy arc; and now that my notional wardrobe has pretensions toward his ‘n’ hers, the room is bursting at the seams.
Which is a roundabout way of saying that I’m thinking of moving and thus we come to the crux of the dilemma - should I move into my own place - still renting? I can see definite advantages - freedom, control, sense of ownership, my decor etc. I will miss coming home to other people, I think. And I fear that either I spend more evenings alone - not terrible but it can grow wearing - or I end up spending the majority of my time out of the home. And why go to the effort of creating a personalised shag-palace environment if you’re not going to be there? Also, of course, I know it’s more expensive to live alone, but how much more? I’m not talking about bills etc. but things like buying food I don’t eat in time and losing out on all bulk savings.
So, do you live alone? How does that work for you - what’s good, what’s bad, how does it differ from sharing accommodation in terms of eating habits, shopping habits, social life? What advice would you offer someone (i.e. me) thinking of taking up the ‘loner’ tag?
All advice listened to, if not ultimately heeded. Many thanks.