Brave.

Brave.

breɪv/

adjective

1. ready to face and endure danger or pain; showing courage.
2. "She was very brave about the whole thing".

Yes, so it's only a move to a strange city and new job, not exactly fighting dragons or going through childbirth, but even so, brave is a word that is being thrown around quite loosely by my friends and family at the moment. "I think you're so brave for moving away!" or, "You're going to move out by yourself? That's very brave!"

The truth is, I'm not very brave at all. I'm genuinely terrified. I haven't expressed my fears to many, only my nearest and dearest, and they could tell you, I cried like a baby at the weekend after one too many martinis!

It's the silliest little things that keep occurring to me that are causing the most panic. From the bottom of my heart, I swear to you, the first thought that crossed my mind when I found out I was definitely going to be moving away was: 'Who is going to catch the spiders for me when they sneak in now?!' That has always been Dad's department.

I'm the first to admit, I'm a fairly pampered little Princess and I have lived a very cushy life at home. I very rarely have to lift a finger to clean or do washing, and I'm not trusted in the kitchen (the toaster hates me... as does the iron). However, I am now going to have no choice but to learn how to do all of these things, unless I want to end up looking like a starved little ragamuffin child.

I am also a self-confessed shopping addict and I'm pretty hopeless when it comes to managing money. Don't get me wrong, if something needs to be paid for, I will graft my little socks off to earn the pennies rather than go crying for help to the parents. But being entirely self-sufficient beyond supporting my wardrobes needs, and actually paying REAL bills, not just store cards, is going to be a big learning curve.

Despite my nerves, I am looking forward to the adventure of it all, of finally putting my brain to good use and dusting off the cobwebs the last 8 months of stagnation have accumulated. The job itself (online content writing for quite a well-known holiday comparison website in the UK) is going to present all kinds of new challenges that I can't wait to get stuck into, so long as the challenge of fending for myself doesn't prove to be all too much.

To me, the word brave is best used to describe soldiers and fire fighters, and people who go out day after day risking their own lives for the sake of others. It doesn't really apply to me in this scenario. The closest thing to brave I'll ever be is watching the Disney movie from the safety of my snuggie blanket.

But maybe it's not such a bad thing to be a little scared, it's adrenaline that drives you. Survival of the fittest and all that, it's a jungle out there!

Enough clichés now...

L x
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Flat Hunter.

So I'm a little late in writing this, but everything is happening now at such whirlwind speed, it's actually hard to keep up with myself!

Thursday just gone was the day I had been most dreading/looking forward to... the flat viewing day.
I had managed to whittle my extensive shortlist of potential places down to just three, one of which I didn't really like that much; but it was, as David Dickinson would say, "cheap as chips".

My lovely friend N had offered to come with me for moral support and to ensure I didn't get ripped off/end up living in a hole, I'm a bit of a pushover when it comes to these professional types in suits you see! Swoon...

We managed to make it down to Leeds in my trusty little Sylvester the Fiesta in a record 1 hour 30 minutes, only breaking a few speed limits... which felt quite comforting as I realised it's really not THAT far from home.

The first viewing was at a new build complex called West Point, which comes inclusive with its own little Greggs, Tesco Express and a bar called 'Toast'. I really like toast, so I figured we were off to a good start. We were met by the letting agent Tony, (who was quite the silver fox) and shown into a second floor studio apartment complete with a delightful view of the building site next door. Location wise, we worked out that this particular flat was less than a 5 minute walk from where I'm going to be working, probably a good thing considering the parking spaces for the building cost an extra £127pcm! Think I can kiss goodbye to my car if this one turns out to be "the one".

Viewing number two was at a complex called Citispace which was pretty much on the opposite side of Leeds. We had time to kill so stopped into Café Nero for a 'quick' cuppa and bit of cake (for me anyway), naturally, we then realised time had ran away and we were going to be late... and it had started raining, well not raining, pissing down, if you can pardon the French. Armed with Google maps on N's phone we started power walking through Leeds city centre. After crossing what seemed like a thousand zebra crossings, everything started to slope downhill, but good old Google said it wasn't much further, we just had to find our way through a fairly shady looking industrial estate. Whilst crossing over the final road of the trek, N suddenly decided this was the best moment to practice her Michael Jackson impression. One leg out-stretched, one leg bent behind her she hit the deck like the proverbial bag of hammers, the only difference between her and Jacko is, Jacko usually springs back up cat-like within seconds, he doesn't wait to be hauled up by his armpits. Despite suffering from quite a badly twisted foot and bruised ego, the trooper that she is, we ventured on and arrived at Citispace.

By this point the drowned rats had nothing on us, "I hope this agent isn't gorgeous", I said to N, as a large raindrop ran off the end of my nose. Luckily he wasn't... and neither was the flat. As he reeled off the list of things that were broken in the apartment and waiting to be fixed by the landlord, I really wondered why we had bothered coming. Cracks in the ceiling, broken fridge, broken 'balcony' door... the list was endless. I politely complimented the flat on its only good point which was that it came complete with an ironing board, and made my excuses to leave. Good luck to whoever takes that place on but it was immediately ruled out of my list.

The final viewing was at a reasonably new complex directly across the road from the hell hole. This place was like Fort Knox to get into, with CCTV watching you like Big Brother and key fob entry through every door I thought yeah, I could feel safe here... but in hindsight, why would anywhere need so much security? What kind of monsters are they keeping out!?

The flat itself was quite nice, the viewing however was a disaster. The current tenants had clearly missed the email warning them of our visit, and were quite happily sat munching popcorn and watching movies when we gate crashed. The agent Phil spoke at hyperspeed and got us out of there as quickly as possible, but not before I noticed that the "memory-foam mattressed luxury double bed" actually folded into the wall. Now maybe I've watched too many cartoons, but visions of being suddenly catapulted into a brick wall in the middle of the night started playing across my mind as I took a business card from Phil and promptly left.

All in all the day was eventful and gave me a lot to think about, but after mulling over the pros and cons of flats one and three (flat two didn't get a look in) with N as we rested her sore foot in a little bar, I decided that the first flat we visited was probably going to be my best bet, so I called up Tony the silver fox and paid my signing fee. So now it's just a waiting game! I can't actually pick the keys up until April 7th (incidentally the same day as I start my new job) so the actual move is going to be a pain in the derriere but fingers crossed all will go smoothly!

L x

3 weeks and counting...

 

So the countdown has begun! It is now just 3 weeks until I make my move to Leeds to start life in the real world as an intern. I have handed my notice in at both of my part-time jobs up North, and have started absent-mindedly online shopping for things like toasters and electric blankets, which I never thought I would find pleasure in! 

 

Coming from the girl who used to save up her wages for months just to splurge on a pair of Kurt Geiger stiletto heels; dancing around Wilkinsons because a 12-piece, purple floral print dinner set was reduced to £20 was certainly not something I would have seen myself doing just a few months back. But it happened.

 

 

All of this utensil shopping is all well and good... given I find myself somewhere to live first!

 

 

Since finding out I had got the job last Tuesday, my life has become a blur of emails and endless web searches for the perfect flat. The problem is, I'm a bit of a snob sometimes and I'm waaaaaay too picky to have such a limited budget, so I've given myself a problem. Bearing in mind I don't know the city of Leeds at all, I figured I wanted to be as close to the centre as possible because then I can walk to work on the Park Row rather than risk getting lost on a bus or accidentally driving to London. I set myself a fairly naïve budget of £350pcm to rent a place, however this has been slowly but surely driven up daily, by the sheer lack of search results which ticked all of my must-have boxes.

 

Close to the centre? Tick. Transport links? Tick. Nice bathroom with shower? Tick. Modern kitchen? Tick. Parking facilities? If possible, tick.

 

It's not like I'm asking for much...

 

So I'm off down to Leeds with my good friend N to have a look at my shortlisted 3 studio apartments on Thursday. I've got no idea if any of them are going to be "the one" but I'm certainly hoping so!

 

Until then...

 

L x