Feeling moved.

I’ve moved across the city from the yummy mummy magnet that is Summertown to the more student friendly and less upmarket East Oxford. Not meaning to be ungrateful, but I couldn’t stick another year of halls. My new pad is a 1 bed in a converted 1871 terrace house with a pleasingly odd brick pattern and with all sorts of luxuries such as a double bed (!), a real sofa (!), a bath (!) and privacy. It also comes with less desirable features including more expensive rent, gas bills, electric bills and internet bills.


Since I moved to England at 18 I’ve now lived in 6 different houses/flats/halls. This means I’ve shifted boxes countless times – I’ve moved house by bus, courier, taxi, car and by simply dragging suitcases full of my stuff down the road. Moving like this is stressful and sweaty work – not least because I have accumulated stack loads of home wares from housemates past and have book shelves that could rival your local mobile library. For now, I would dearly like to stay put.

My Ford Ka did not look quite this bad coming up Iffley Road, but nearly.

Some day soon I’ll post a photo my new workspace, but I’d like to do some thesis work first to justify my existence.


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