It's bloody stressful, and a little disheartening when you're not chosen.
I went to see two places on Tuesday night.
The first:
Ideal location, just off Upper Street, Islington. Reasonably priced and I should see why the moment I walked into the communal stairwell. The carpet was tatty, the stairs were worn and extremely narrow. To get the to flat in question you had to climb up 3 floors and when you got to the top, you were met with a lot of crap - stumps of a tree?! WTF?
Inside was small. I was promptly shown through to the front room and told that all furniture bar the two sofa's would be taken, as would the kitchen appliances and the double bed in one of the available rooms. The general appearance of the place screamed "worn down & worn the hell out". I wasn't initially impressed, but as I walked toward the train station in order to make my way to the next viewing I considered the pros
- The location was perfect
- The price was perfect
- It could do with a deep clean which I would be up for
- With all the personal items going I could get my stuff out of storage and make it my own…
The second:
It's not in the area I want to live, in fact it's more or less back where I used to live… with him. I turned off Commercial Street into the road googlemaps was telling me the flat was on. I came face to face with a group of youths (remember I'm over 30 now) smoking weeds, and it was seriously strong smelling weed, and hanging outside their flash car, which they can afford because they still live at home with their parents and pay no rent! - RANT over
I tapped in the door number at the main entrance and waited for them to let me in. I walked to the top of the stairs and found the flat was right by the main building stairs. My first reservation - noise.
As I was let in, I was greeted by a friendly male, met by another friendly male as we walked down the hall towards the living area. The tour was quick because everything was within a step away from each other. The room itself was pretty. It had everything you needed. I stayed for a chat and felt like they would be great flatmates.
Yesterday I woke up to a text to say that I wasn't chosen for the first place and I have to say, I wanted to cry. From the second I left it to the time I'd received that text, I'd built a life for myself there, surrounded by my belongings, feeling more like me again.
Then as I was about to turn off the light and go to sleep, I got a text from the second flat… They want to see me again on Saturday for a drink :) only issue is that I'm not in London this weekend WAAAAAAH!!
Search continues
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