Home at Last
After weeks of living out of my suitcase, I’ve finally unpacked all of my stuff into my very own room. I can’t begin to tell you what an exhilarating feeling that was for me. On Saturday we received a call from the landlord’s intermediary (programmed in Kelly’s phone as “The Devil”) saying that we could move in Sunday. Fantastic. Happy faces. Sunday morning we get a call saying we can’t move in after all–no checks allowed, cash only. Just great. Curse intermediary devil woman. Sunday evening we get a call saying we can move in–check is okay. We pack our bags and get over there before The Devil can call us back and change her mind.
To be honest, after all the crap we’ve suffered over this whole house situation I was still nervous that they’d pull the rug out from under us and call the whole thing off. But breaking form, the whole process went pretty smoothly. The Devil wasn’t there, so we only had to deal with The Devil-in-training (her daughter). We did a walk-through of the house doing inventory, counting out all the nuts and bolts and every last teaspoon, then we each got our very own set of keys. Ahhh, the relief! Walking back to the Tube station, Kelly, Becky, and I were like new people–homeless no more.
It was sad leaving Sandra and what had been my home for about two weeks. She had cooked us one last going away meal before we went out on our own to begin living off pasta, sandwiches, and cereal. Dinner was chicken liver. Yup. I didn’t really know what to do with it. Ask my parents–I’ve made incredible strides in overcoming my pickiness since I was a kid. I can eat onions now (cooked, not raw), fish (tuna and grouper on occasion), and I even eat ketchup on my hamburgers (on the side, I like to have the option of a ketchup-free bite). Okay, I may be a little finicky at times, but I’m definitely not picky; however, I have my limits, and chicken liver is past the limit. I just can’t do organs. No way, not ever, not gonna do it. At the risk of being impolite, I just couldn’t handle it. Growing up, we used chicken liver as bait when we went fishing–it’s fish food, not people food. I did at least give it a try to see if maybe I could stomach it, but it just didn’t go down well at all. To Sandra’s credit the preparation was excellent and the red wine sauce was delicious. If I were a chicken, I’d want it to be her who cooked my liver.
Getting our bags to the house wasn’t as big of a nightmare as I thought it would be. It was just so tiring moving them again. When we finally got back to the house and threw everything down it was incredible. We were home for the first time since we’d left the States. I slept so well that first night in my own bed. Last night when I got home from work Kelly and I rearranged some things in my room to make it feel like less of a hallway, and now it’s actually quite comfy. All my clothes are now out of the suitcase and I no longer feel like a vagrant.
Life is looking up at the moment. We finally got settled in our house, my new job as a copywriter starts tomorrow, and Becky is bringing her TV down from Rugby this weekend. Shelter, money, and television–the bare necessities. Yep, everything is coming up roses.
Tags: house, job, London, Random
Administrator
Hi Alisha,
I love your commentary! Reading your site makes me feel like you are back at home. 🙂 I love you!
Mom
Alisha,
Great blog. I just found it and read it in two days. As a recent college grad who also had a long period of looking for a job out here in California, I envy your trip. Someday. (sigh)
Greg