Dying Of Boredom

The level of boredom in the new house darn Sarf is such that I have actually decided to come back home for a few days.

And those few days could easily stretch to a week…

It’s good to home… but in truth, it’s just good to be somewhere with working internet. I knew I was reliant on it, but I didn’t think it was that much.

The move on the Saturday was OK. It was a little sad… and tears were shed by most of us, even my dad. They were tears that marked the end of an era, I think. I knew I would be back… and here I am to prove it… but during the week it has dawned upon me that “this really is it” and now it is entirely down to me to sort out my life. That never again will I truly live in the sanctity and safety of the family home.

Sunday was awful. It was spent spending over a grand in IKEA, travelling to and from the store, and then building the furniture. It still isn’t all built now. Luckily, my housemate was a lot better at the stuff than me, and so we managed to get through the important stuff, like a couch and the two beds, OK. Nevertheless, it was still incredibly frustrating and stressful.

Then the week began in earnest. No internet meant several trips to the library to use the exceptionally shitty computers there. Talk about basic. 640×480 resolution. Internet Exploder 6. Horizontal scrolling. Crashing. But it was my only connection to the outside world.

And one of the first things I did was order my ticket home!

The main problem is that it’s going to be two weeks before the internet gets set up in the house. Without it, I’m lost. I can’t do anything. I can’t do my political writings. I can’t keep in touch with friends. I can run my business. I can’t keep up to date with the world. Instead, I’ve had to go back to the dark ages, relying on Radio 4 (urgh, too pedestrian) and reading newspapers. So out of touch…

And then there was the lack of a fridge. We finally got one delivered yesterday, but in the meantime its meant having to go and buy every meal especially. And worse, having dry toast for breakfast. Not good at all. It’s also meant some rather eclectic meals, depending on what ASDA or Tesco were reducing that evening. Rocket salad. Nasty. Far too bitter for my tastes. But needs must…

We will get there. Right now I’m not keen on it. It’s a nice house, for sure… but I’m unsure about my housemate. He’s entertaining, but sometimes he tries too hard. Needs to relax a bit more. That puts me on edge. I want to try to enjoy my new house if possible.

Note the use of house. Not a home. Not yet, anyway.

Maybe once things settle down I’ll begin to enjoy my freedom again. After all, within minutes of me arriving back home I was already getting stressed out by the dog.

Still… there’s some work for me here. That’ll keep me busy, and escapes the boredom, sitting, waiting, wishing something exciting would happen. It was like the bad old days.

At least here, I’m occupied. And, even better, the work pays for this trip a couple of times over. Happy days.

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