The joys of shared accomodation

I love my housemates, all five of them. I do not, however, love hearing my dear friend J snoring loudly straight through the wall. He must have been drinking, he only snores when he is drunk.

The fact that I can tell how much alcohol he has been drinking by listening to his breathing without even being in the same room just goes to show the walls in the Warehouse are too thin.

Thin walls also lead to the following embarrassing exchanges:

J: So did you and D enjoy watching Silent Hill last night?

Me: Yes thank you J, it was very scary indeed.

J: So you had a good night then? Oh wait, I already know the answer to that one. You certainly sounded like you enjoyed discussing the film afterwards. All night loooong. Ooooh yeh.

Me: Shut the fuck up. [WHILE BLUSHING PROFUSELY]

Delightful. But at least thin walls mean you can hear someone else starting to get out of bed and dive out yourself, beating them in the race to the one bathroom we share. Every cloud...

Hard times and January blues

It has been a particularly slow Monday today. I'm not entirely certain where my head is at, but I think it got left behind somewhere this morning when I ran out of the door nearly late, as usual. Work passed by in a sort of daze. I sat through two meetings more interested in picking bobbles off the gorgeous angora cardigan my mother got me for Christmas, than contributing in any useful way, and pretty much dozed my way through a lunch date with E, my works partner in crime.

I think the January Blues have officially set in. The festive season bled me dry financially and physically. And although the damage done to my liver is now slowly repairing itself, I unfortunately have two weeks to go until the damage to my bank account has any chance of healing.

An empty bank account means an empty diary, and while I'd normally be busying myself with post work drinks, shopping and dinner dates with friends, all I have to look forward to in January is the weary trudge home to whatever measly dinner I can pull together from my emergency rations.

Now don't worry, I'm pretty good at battening down the hatches when times are about to get tough. It's in fact quite the running joke amongst my flatmates, who call me the 'little stockpiler'. At the first sign of any financial challenge on the horizon my immediate response is to do a massive, but cheap, online food shop from Tesco. And this month was no different. My cupboards are filled with can upon can of chopped tomatoes, baked beans, kidney beans, butter beans, some other kinds of beans, some tuna and a few more kinds of beans. I've got potatoes, onions, garlic, pasta, cous-cous and rice. I've got a large amount of chicken thighs bagged up in the freezer, along with salmon and fish cakes. I've got vegetables to last me nearly to the end, and then a £5 stash for the final few days. And of course I have tea bags and coffee.

So you see, I won't starve, I will be living on casseroles and still getting my coffee in the morning. Lunch at work will be hassle free and brought from home every day. My oyster card is paid up until March so I can get to and from work. Everything important is taken care or, all bills are paid and up-to-date so it's fine, really it's fine. But, without the distractions of a hectic social life it is easy to start feeling a little blue, and it's not like I have a boyfriend to keep me company on the sofa. I just thank goodness the last purchase I treated myself to was the Sex and the City box set, heavily discounted in the Zavvi closing down sale.

And that is where I shall sign off now, tucked up in bed with my cosiest winter warmers, full up from bean casserole and off to immerse myself in the joys of Carrie and the girls in season three.

Life could be worse... but roll on February!