Rob, Rambling - A lot of things interest me...

My old housemate used to have one. Me and my other housemate used to read it without his knowledge. It certainly became interesting when he slagged as off on it!

Here is a link: http://blog.gooneruk.com/

This blog has been spread round many an office and most people can’t get over what a complete twat he is. Find the bit about “nose sword fights” with his gf and you will know what I mean!

My old housemate, yesterday, writing about this blog on a forum. Does he not think that I have statistics that tell me where hits are coming from?

This’d be the reason why I don’t tell too many real-life people about my blog. I can’t be arsed with dealing with the hassle of “real” people’s opinions of what I write and post. With all due respect to my fellow Tumblrs, you’re mostly semi-anonymous people that I’m never going to meet.

If another internet person disagrees with me, or doesn’t like what I write, I don’t take it personally. There’s sufficient distance and a degree of anonymity behind the comments, and that means I can take them with a pinch of salt.

When it’s someone that I lived with, and considered a half-decent mate, it’s different. I figured that they were reading it, purely out of curiosity if nothing else. I closed my last blog a few years ago because too many of my real-life friends were reading and it became hard to write honestly. And my family too.

I like to think that I don’t post anything here that I wouldn’t say to someone to their face, but no doubt I do.

So I’m going to be moving in with the girlfriend before too long. This is one hell of a big step for us, I reckon. And we’ve got a definite timeframe now, rather than just a vague intention to do so “before too long”.

It’s a long story as to the whys and wherefores, but here goes.

I currently live with two guys, but they have both decided to move out, which left me with the option of moving out too or trying to find two randoms to live with for the next 3-4 months and then leaving at the end of our twelve-month contract.

To say that I’m pissed off at my housemates is an understatement. I’m more pissed off at Housemate 1 (H1 from now on) than 2 (H2). This is the second time I’ve lived with him, but this is the third time he’s stitched me up when it comes to moving.

You may remember the whole saga of him deciding to move out of our old place and basically forcing me to go too. In the end, I moved in with him again, mainly because I didn’t have too many other options.

I didn’t like the new house too much at first, but it’s grown on me. I’ve gotten used to my tiny little room, and the fact that I’m now a mere 5 minutes walk from the girlfriend’s house has been great. It’s meant we’ve spent a lot more time together, which is always a good thing.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, H1 told me that he was going to go travelling for six months from the end of November. Now, how the fuck did he not know this when me moved into this place a mere 4-5 months ago?! He claims that it was in the back of his mind, but that he hadn’t decided to do so until the middle of this summer.

I think that’s bullshit, and told him as much. I also told him that I was very pissed off about him stitching me up yet again. As much as I really enjoy the actual living with him, it seems that he is ridiculously selfish when it comes to the occasion and decision of moving. And I’ve said that to him too.

I thought H2 would stay and that we could find one new housemate to fill a newly spare room. But he’s taken this opportunity to move out as well. Again, he’s not exactly given too much warning, and wasn’t particularly helpful in providing options with regards to when I can choose to move out or stay put.

So basically I was put in a thoroughly awkward position, and pretty much left with no option but to move out as well. Which gives me the hassle of moving, and probably some expense too.

The most annoying thing about it all is that the decision was once again taken out of my hands by my housemates. They made their decisions, and then just told me. There was no question of discussion, or of consulting me first. Or even asking how it would affect me. Simply unilateral decisions.

I talked about this with the girlfriend, as well as with my parents and a few friends. Having looked at my finances, I’m in no position to live by myself, be it renting or buying. Hopefully, with the property market tumbling, I’ll be able to afford to buy a place some time within the next 18 months, but not right now.

I found that I needed to convince myself a little to move in with the girlfriend, as I’ve never lived with one before, and this is a bit ahead of schedule. It’s not that I had a firm or fixed schedule, but moving in next March, at the theoretical end of my current rent contract, would’ve been ideal. At that point, we would’ve been together for 18 months, whereas by November/December this year it’s “only” 15.

I asked the girlfriend if she would look at moving in with me, and thankfully she said that she’d love to. I was genuinely nervous that she’d say no, but she was fully enthusiastic about the whole thing.

It’s now a matter of dates and logistics. I’m away for nearly two weeks at the end of November, which is when our notice period would be finished, and my housemates are planning to move out. So I’m going to move into the girlfriend’s current place for a couple of days before I fly out to the States, and then when I get back in early December.

We’re about to start looking for a place now, to move in during December, and ideally the first half. I figure that landlords will be looking to fill their places before Christmas, and that should mean getting a slightly cheaper rent than at other times in the year.

I’m really looking forward to it all. Yes, it’ll be a big step, and sort of a make-or-break situation in the relationship, but I’m certain that it’s a move in the right direction. Wish me luck.

OK, so some work got in the way of going to the gym. And I find myself sitting here at my desk, getting angrier and angrier. I am seething right now, and a touch worried that I’m going to snap at one of my co-workers for no reason whatsoever.

This whole house issue (again, I’ll write the full story later) is the only thing on my mind right now, and it’s absolutely infuriating that it has become such a focal point of my energies this week because of decisions made by other people. It’s the lack of control that’s pissing me off; the feeling that I’ve been completely neglected and dismissed by the other two, who have decided what to do without any thought whatsoever as to how it’s going to affect me.

And now I’ve got to make some fucking big decisions, and don’t have a huge amount of time to do so. I’m thoroughly, thoroughly fucked off right now.

I’m starting to look for a new flat/house, and dear God is it depressing. I definitely didn’t anticipate doing this so soon after moving last time, especially when the reasons for the move have been taken out of my hands.

I’ve got a long post that I want to write about the whole situation, but I guess that’ll just have to wait until I get home from work. Suffice it to say that my general mood today is angry. And ever more so, which means that I’ll probably be fuming by the time I get back home tonight. I really, really want to shout at my housemates. Massively.

It just annoys me that my hand is being forced through absolutely no fault of my own, and that it’s going to cost me both financially and in terms of hassle/time.

I want to pound something so hard right now. Just get the aggression out of me. I’m off to the gym to go pull a muscle by trying to do too much.

Housemate texted me at 12.30 last night to find out if there’d been any last-minute activity as the football transfer window closed, which pissed me off. I was already in bed, and was thiiiiiis close to falling asleep when my phone buzzed.

He was on his way back from holiday, but it wasn’t until after I replied that I thought to myself, “Why didn’t he just use the fucking internet on his phone?” I always think of the right thing to say just after it’s too late.

So last night was yet another session of interrupted sleep, approximately number 943 in a row. One of these days…

Tonight was the first proper summer evening we’ve had so far this year. Despite my disappointment at missing out on that film/performance thing, I had a good time.

As I walk back from the station to my house every day, I go past a decent-size park, bathed in sunshine. Or rain, because it is England after all. Today it just looked glorious, and as I turned onto my street I was hoping my housemate would be around so we could go kick a football about.

He was, so 15 minutes later we were there, mostly tossing an American Football about. That’s hard work, I can tell you. I think I’ve put my shoulder out. And I’ve definitely hurt the ring finger on my writing hand. You know when you go to catch something and it just hits the end of a finger absolutely square? I did that, so my finger’s a bit sore now too.

It was a good workout as well as fun, as we were running around the whole time, trying to catch the ball on the run and do stupid Endzone dances when we did. On top of the treadmill at lunchtime, I’ve had my fill of exercise for today.

When we got back to the house, we sat around in the back garden for a bit, sinking a beer to cool off. It’s the first time I’ve lived anywhere with a garden for nearly two years, and it’s surprising to note that I actually missed it.

We don’t exactly have a sun trap, being surrounded on 2 sides by huge trees and on one of the others by the house, but it’s enough. Room to relax on deckchairs and shoot the shit.

I cooked a little salmon fillet with some Thai curry paste and beans, and am now chilling on the laptop. Ideal, some would say. Here’s to summer!

My house is becoming for me more and more just a place to sleep. I’ve barely spent any time here in the last fortnight, and I can’t even remember the last time I cooked anything here.

I’m starting to genuinely dislike being here. I truly miss my old flat, which was perfect, and I guess I resent my housemate a little for being the one to force me to move out of it. I still live with him now (and another guy), but it was definitely the case that the whole moving thing was for his benefit, not mine.

It annoys me that all of the walls are paper-thin, that the windows rattle and that the house gets freezing cold instantly. Even though my rent is £30 per month cheaper, I know that it’s going to work out much more expensive than the old place because of the extra bills.

And to save £30, I’ve had to take a tiny room. If I’d wanted a room of the same size as my old one, and still with en suite, it’d have cost me nearly £100 more in this house as my old flat.

And what do we get for this extra money? A little tiny garden which doesn’t even get much sunlight, a longer walk to the train station in the morning, and a much greater distance to the centre of London. For me, it feels like I might as well be living outside of the M25 for all the good living here does for me.

Even though we moved in 2 months ago, I’ve yet to unpack everything in my room. I can barely see the point, even though I have suitcases and piles of junk taking up the tiny bit of floor space that I actually possess. It just doesn’t feel like a home to me at all. It’s like I’m back in a student house, with people constantly coming and going, and no stability of sorts.

It annoys me that I have to share a bathroom. That the kitchen is constantly untidy and messy. That the living room is always a mess. That we don’t have a tumble-dryer, so there are clothes around everywhere. That we have a bloody cleaning rota, for fucks sake.

That I’m out of the house in the morning before the other two are out of bed, and get home later than them in the evening after work, but am still left to take care of things like the phone and internet connections.

I guess I’m just not that happy here.