Housing Hell

Shit. Shitting shitty shit. House-hunting is so hard. It's a whole new world of social conventions I don't understand! I've always lived with friends or family, so this whole meeting strangers and trying to impress upon them what an excellent housemate you would be thing is very difficult. Also, I don't understand the protocol. I figured the people with the house are in the position of power, so it's up to them to make the decision, since they'll have many people wanting to move in. The London flat-share market is pretty cut-throat. So I looked at a really nice flat last Friday night, and told the girls the room was perfect for my needs and they said they'd discuss their housemate options that night and text me the next day. It's now Sunday and I've only just heard from them. They said:

"Hey Liam, Don't know if you were interested in the room, but just to let you know, we have now found someone to move in. Best of luck with the search!"

Now, that's all very nice, but it makes me feel like the fact that I didn't get the room is my fault. I mean, they said they didn't know if I was interested in the room, but how much clearer than "I'm really keen, please let me know" can I be? I figure they should decide who they want to live with and then go down the list. Apparently, it's like getting a job, and I'm going to have to call repeatedly and hassle people.

Anyway, I think I've decided to stay where I am. This room I saw on Friday and one I saw the previous week were perfect i.e. cheap, clean, and well-located with nice, quiet-seeming housemates. Apart from that, they're all more expensive than where I am now if you factor in bills, and a bit further flung-out, transport-wise. One had a carpeted bathroom - weird, I hate that shit - and another was with housemates who had a very limited grasp of English. Ah well. I really like my area: it's close to work and a big supermarket, and it's pretty easy to get in and out of the city. What I really miss is having a living room, and the fact that this is a business-run house, so the housemates change regularly. There were two awesome Aussie girls in the room next to me, but they'll be gone soon and who knows who'll take their place? But there are a few other people who are planning on staying here until February or March, so hopefully we can built up a bit of a rapport. I'm on contract with the BBC until March, so I guess I'll reconsider things then.

Anyway, house-huntng took up the weekend, only for me to learn I'm happy where I am. (I can't help but feel that the weekend's efforts serve as a metaphor for what I've learned about Australia by travelling abroad.) I've caught up with a few friends though, which has been good: I went out for drinks on a boat-bar on the Thames on Friday night, and went dancing last night. Mum arrives in a week, so I've got to plan activities and stuff for her arrival.