Last time I checked in to this column, I was moping around my parents’ increasingly empty, box-filled house with an expression similar to that of a 29-year-old child who has just dropped their ice cream. I was bracing myself for the big move out of their villa and into my own apartment – aka the real world. Now, a month in to living in my own (totally awesome) flat, I’ve learned plenty of life lessons.
Let’s start with some positives. Number one: after numerous supermarket trips, I’ve discovered, that I have the lifting power of The Hulk. On arrival at my apartment building with a brand-new microwave in tow, I could barely get my arms around the box. But I’m proud to report I single-handedly (or bear hugged-ly) carried it to my seventh-floor apartment, where it shall remain forever.
Yet while I may have the power of a superhero, I unfortunately do not have the go-go-Gadget arms of Inspector Gadget. I learned this the hard way when the tricky zipper on a dress I planned to wear to a work event would not budge. This is where experience as a Cirque du Soleil contortionist would have come in handy; in the end, a kind colleague picked me up on her way to the party to pull up the zip.
I’ve learned that my neighbours, however, may not be so dependable. Last week I came home to find that the voucher I’d left on my front doorstep for the water delivery man had been taken – and not by the water delivery man. My third lesson? I’ve never been great at housework, yet I find myself religiously washing every dish approximately a minute after I’ve finished eating. I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks.
However, somewhat ironically, I’ve discovered the best thing about living on my own (apart from the fact that I don’t have to clean up others’ mess) is that I spend most of the weekend at my friends’ homes. I guess these days, I’m more sociable. And I’m even more likely to pay visits if said home is equipped with a pool table and Jacuzzi. Luckily, the house in question belongs to my very accommodating sister. Here’s to family – and to another five days in my own pad, with microwavable goodies, several tonnes of water and spotless crockery. Until the weekend, that is.
Jenny Hewett is our Shopping & Style Editor. She is currently on the lookout for a zipper-less dress.