Onward!!

A year ago, almost to the day, I arrived at this house, dropping my luggage in an empty square-shaped room that fit a double bed, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe. Feeling a bit confused, I unpacked my things and thought I’d get used to it all. I remember the smell of that room, slightly dusty and warmed up by the central heating going on full blast, driving away the February chill.

It smelled exactly the same just now, when I grabbed the last pile of things and carried them out. It looked the same, too, when I put up the long red curtains that were there when I moved in. I’m only moving upstairs to the room vacated by a couple who are leaving, but it feels quite momentous. The dynamic in the house may very well change, considering the leaving flatmates were giant, affable personalities. They’ve taken quite a bit of things with them, which of course they are entitled to, but it too has contributed to a feeling of change in the house.

The mattress topper I have is slightly too big for the bed, and most of my things are spread across the floor. That reflects a bit of how I feel, too – a little uncomfortable and scattered. It remains to make this room, gutted to the bare minimum, feel like home. I guess I’ll have to spend money for that to happen, though I wouldn’t want to spend too much considering I never know where and when I’ll be moving next and moving with lots of stuff is a pain. On the other hand, I wouldn’t want to spend money on throwawayism in the form of a load of flat-packed fibreboard furniture which you can’t really transport once assembled.

I’ll have to do the same thing I did a year ago and try it out. It’ll settle, as will I. It’s just made me think of how I have no clue where I’ll be in a year’s time from now.

Arriving back from African sunshine to a bright but breezy and cold London was a shock in a multitude of ways. Not only was my body unused to the temperature and artificiality, I got a few big pieces of news as well. Two rooms in our house are becoming empty as some of my housemates are getting a smaller place together. I do believe their assurances that there is no acrimony involved in their leaving, because they are all very dear to me and have significantly improved my experience of living in this city. I really hope the changes don’t impact the house dynamic or atmosphere too much, because our place is kind of special in my opinion.

The news did hit me hard, I won’t lie. I spent a good hour and a bit ambling around North London to clear my head on Sunday a week ago, wandering vaguely on a circular route that ended up being around five miles.  I will definitely have to do that again, as the lack of a camera prevented me from capturing some really nice shots, from young rowers on the canal to boarded-up post-industrial gloom of trackside business premises long abandoned.

So, to get the house full again, I’ve had to make my room look as presentable as possible for a prospective female housemate, because gender balance tends to help with things. If anything, it’s made me think about how I can effectively store my meagre belongings once I move up a floor into one of the departing housemates’ rooms. It’s been pretty stressful on the whole, having viewings/housemate auditions pretty much every night, coordinating schedules and other admin at the same time as working full days. Oh, and racking my brain about another development I’m not sure what to do with.

I’ve been offered a job that would start much earlier than my current contract finishes. Apparently it’d be mine if I applied for it, and the colleagues would be enthusiastic to have me. All good and great but though it’s more money, I can’t help but think I would have wanted something more career-oriented as my next job. I don’t want to say too much about what this offer would be but somehow I feel this’d be an easy way out, perhaps too easy. I like the field (it’s vaguely academic) but as much as I’ve never thought about career advancement, the lack of immediately visible prospects from it bothers me.

And I know I should always be looking out for number one, but telling everyone I work with, fixed-term and temporary as my current contract is, that I’d be leaving for greener pastures fills me with dread. There would be no coming back, I don’t think.

I’ve been back in London mere hours, and I’m finding myself missing Finland a lot. Somehow it being really cold and really wintery, completely different from London, made it that much more attractive. London seems dimmed and grey, even bleak, compared to the strict monochrome of Finland where, even in the silver moonlight, there was mostly just black and pure white. While walls grow with Ivy here, they’re subdued in their green in a way that is hard to describe exactly. It’s ironic, there being more colour around here.

I’m due back at work tomorrow, and I think I’ll have an early night. My body is, after all, two hours ahead, or at least something that is not GMT. Thanks to everyone that made this break really good and met up with me, and apologies to those I didn’t get to catch up with. I’ll definitely try to be back as soon as resources allow.

It’s Sunday, and I’m at work.

When I woke up the rain rattling against the window made me want to just wrap myself tighter and stay in bed.

By the time I was on my way out the rain had stopped, and once I got to King’s Cross the sky had cleared too. In the gray-white sunlight, I walked the last twenty minutes to work to try and avoid the noise and the soot and the empty but yet still claustrophobic tube carriages, passing few people because at that time on Sunday, London is mostly asleep or only gearing up to a day of Christmas shopping.

My friends are in Cambridge today, no doubt enjoying clearer sunshine wandering around the grounds of the University or the warm company in a relaxed pub. I’m not ashamed in admitting that I’m jealous. I’d like to see them very much. Instead, on a Sunday, I’m at work.

A recent quandary in my life concerns how I’m going to spend tonight, a Friday night.

I’ve been invited to a book launch on a topic generally of interest to me through my studies. It’d be a chance to network, I suppose, though I don’t really know what sort of people will attend. Still, a couple of presentations summarising various chapters of the book (so I won’t have to, you know, buy and read it), some wine and chatter wouldn’t be too bad. I’ve known about it for two weeks and was happy to put my name down as attending at the time.

On the other hand, I’ve also been invited to a charity wine tasting evening tonight. It’d go well with my running haute cuisine theme, what with having dined at Chez Bruce last night. It’d probably be with a completely different crowd that I would most likely feel underdressed at, even though I’m planning on getting home after work and changing. Still, mingling and having some wine (I’m not sure if it’s a course or just a reception) doesn’t sound too bad. So, I remain undecided. Obviously I’m down as attending on the book launch and wouldn’t like to let anyone down, but … argh. Suggestions on an electronic postcard please. Please? It’s doing my head in. Oh woe is me.

And how was Chez Bruce? Rich, yet very, very tasty. Extremely intense flavours, in combinations I would never have thought of. I was really glad I’m not in the least bit fussy about food. Not badly priced either, considering. Must be one of the cheaper Michelin-starred restaurants around. I’d definitely recommend it, though only for a specifically planned night out. We went with a bunch of friends, a bunch that grew over time as we planned it. I glowed all the way home to North London though, just happy on a few glasses of wine and belly full of intricate cooking.