Viewport width =
February 25, 2008 | by  | in Opinion |
Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

Big City Life

You know what sucks? Living at home. Or more to the point, moving back after being away from home. But maybe it’s just my house? Two out of my four friends live at home and they don’t seem to mind. They probably have their own space though. I’m sleeping in my brother’s single bed. With my brother. Not really. But I might as well be. There’s no privacy here. I can’t take a bath without someone coming in, whether to get my laundry, take a shit, god knows what else. Sometimes I think I get barged in on simply because I’m there. The toilet is another area lacking in privacy. For reasons already stated. It’s all bathroom related really. Although where else in the house do you need privacy? Your bedroom? I don’t have one. When you’re bringing home guys? I won’t be doing that given my circumstances. The bathroom? Oh yeah, we went over that already.

My prospective flatties and I made a one day only trip to Wellington a couple weeks ago in the hopes of finding a house for our move… tomorrow. We didn’t get one. At this point I was already over my job as a waitress, biding my time before I could finally leave and get on with the rest of my life. The rest of my Wellingtonian life anyway. So not only did we have no prospects and little hopes but I was expected at work the next day. Great. Our next house hunting trip went successfully although I’m so sick of looking at houses that I don’t even know if I want to live in one anymore. The catch? The house isn’t available until a week after our expected move. Now I know a week isn’t long at all but that week means a week at home. Another week at work. Another week of limbo with my pseudo ex-boyfriend.

So here I am, sitting in my underpants on my brother’s bed – stuck in Napier for another 10 days with no will to work, nothing to do and nowhere to escape to. The move to Welly can’t come soon enough but at the same time it is terribly daunting. I lived in Seattle for three months and never felt all that good about taking a bus on my own. Although they did let you take dogs. Not that that makes me feel better but it’s amusing considering Wellington’s city centre has a ban on dogs. Awesome. But now I’m off topic. This whole column’s off topic. I’m not in the big city so I’m not living a big city life. I can listen to the song though. Not that I like that song. But it is catchy. Does anyone get that reference? I hope so. Until next week!*

*where I actually still won’t be in the big city but hey, whatever.

Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

About the Author ()

Comments are closed.

Recent posts

  1. There’s a New Editor
  2. An (im)possible dream: Living Wage for Vic Books
  3. Salient and VUW tussle over Official Information Act requests
  4. One Ocean
  5. Orphanage voluntourism a harmful exercise
  6. Interview with Grayson Gilmour
  7. Political Round Up
  8. A Town Like Alice — Nevil Shute
  9. Presidential Address
  10. Do You Ever Feel Like a Plastic Bag?

Editor's Pick

In Which a Boy Leaves

: - SPONSORED - I’ve always been a fairly lucky kid. I essentially lucked out at birth, being born white, male, heterosexual, to a well off family. My life was never going to be particularly hard. And so my tale begins, with another stroke of sheer luck. After my girlfriend sugge