2005-08-21, 11:49 a.m. Phew. I�ve pretty much spent all weekend working really hard on the new flat. Although just before I left I looked around, and didn�t really see any progress whatsoever in making it any more liveable. I�ve ordered lots of stuff that is due to arrive in a few days or weeks time. Who would have thought buying things like curtains, fridge freezers and washing machines would be so complex? Choosing the most effective spin cycle, the right balance of fridge to freezer shelf space, the kind of curtain that fits the curtain things the previous owner left behind.
If I close my eyes I see the Ikea catalogue. Even when they are open I imagine myself walking the aisles of Ikea, or travelling in the car between the flat and Ikea. I�m defiantly a sado masochist, why else would I invite my parents across to help me in my first weekend in the flat? Spent at least 20 minutes discussing the merits of various items of glassware with my mum, while my Dad looked on in despair. They were both pretty much aware they wouldn�t have been there if it wasn�t for their car that was big enough to carry things in.
Phew, I�m tired. The flat�s really quite nice, it pretty much fits all the criteria I�d drawn up on what I wanted in a flat. It�s hard to remember how nice a flat it is, when I�ve got to choose colours to paint over the various pinks and purples. It�s got a kitchen with enough room for a kitchen table and chairs. The number of flats I saw where a cupboard off the living room had been kited out as a kitchen. It�s got two bedrooms. So I don�t have to wake up every day to a desk full of work at the bottom of my bed.
I lived in some pretty horrible flats, and a particularly horrible student hall, in which my room was converted back to being a cupboard after I left. That isn�t a joke, it was a cupboard with a window, enough room for a single bed, a sink and a desk (all touching), and it really was converted back into a cupboard after I left. I was an experiment to see if it could be used as a room, not that they didn�t charge me the same rent as every other student. At the very least it was a point of interests when I was making friends in halls, the other rooms were usually three or four times the size of mine, and it gave me an automatic bond with the student above me who had an identical room.
Well, anyway. I�m a ferocious procrastinator, and I�m not going to have the Internet in the new flat. I can very easily spend a day on the internet and completely forget about the work in hand. It will be good motivation to go into university and check my email there.
I wouldn�t say that I�m definitely not going to write another entry but I don�t then really update this often enough or emotionally invest enough in it to make it a really worthwhile thing to continue with. One of the diarists I read recently mentioned that she and her partner had a massive fight, and their marriage was over. There has been no more mention of this, other than a casual I don�t want to talk about that. Nothing against that lady, it really isn�t some sort of complaint, but it is a general comment about the vague pointlessness of some online diaries, particulary this one.
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