I'm an idiot. I've spent the last three years quietly (and not so quitely) moaning to both myself and others, about my current room.
"It's tiny in comparison to the rooms I could be staying in!"
"The landlord does NOTHING to fix things!"
"I wish I could have internet - and a washing machine!"
Say what you will about my digs here at Pennard Road... but they are a zillion times better than half the rooms I've seen online over the last 2 days.
And there's 48 hours of my life I'll never get back. Man, I now know the reason why I put off moving for so long. I think my brain half-remembered the trauma and the tedium of house hunting back in 2010.
So many rooms, I'm losing track of what I have or haven't viewed. Infact, I've now probably seen inside so many homes, I've likely become an expert at London interior design (or something; just go with it, it's 2am and my brain is dead)
So, what have I found? Zilch. Squat. Nada.
I'm getting stressed because there's a deadline looking, and everything I've seen today has been a great big pile of steaming shit (AND poorly internally designed...) The one glimmer of hope I had turned to shit, too, whdn somebody a lot smarter (and attractive, it should be noted) pointed out that the moneys wouldn't work out.
Then I found a warehouse, and one choc-a-bloc full of arty tupes. I think that's just what I need; an adrenaline shot to my artist ways.
Fingers crossed they respond, and it works out. I 'd love toive thee - and at this point, it's the only room I've seen that is truly 'better' than what I have at thr moment.
Onwards and upwards, hopefully!