So I moved up to London last year, at the end of September, into a two bedroom flat with someone I met earlier in the year. Then, sadly, at the beginning of December the boiler spewed it's guts, and I've been living with T'Other ever since. I've offered to pay bills and such, but that offer's been rejected by T'Other's live-in landlord.
Got a message from my landlady yesterday saying that the boiler would finally be fixed by the end of this week, but could I please move out by 6 Feb. OK, thinks I. Not a surprise, but if things get dicey I have a place to stay.
Tonight, T'Other gets a phone call from his landlord, who basically throws a fit and demands that I be gone. T'Other requests that we be given til the weekend at least. All gets rather uncomfortable. T'Other is none too chuffed.
So, Saturday I go back to the flat, but then I have three weeks to find somewhere new to live. There is currently one possibility, which may or may not come together, but even if it does it'll be temporary.
I can't express how fed up I am with being pushed from pillar to post. When I moved up to London, I had a feeling that the place I was moving to would be temporary. I wasn't really prepared for this though.
I just want a place I can live in for more than just a few months. A place where T'Other is welcome. A place I can put my own things out and not feel like I'm always invading someone else's space, ruining their life by the fact that I'm still breathing. I want a place where I don't feel bad if I leave the dishes til the morning, where the shower isn't freezing fucking cold, where no one keeps me awake til 1.30am with their noise and ranting and selfishness.
I knew I shouldn't have brought more than just clothes with me to London.
UPDATE: I think I have a plan. All will be well. More news when things are confirmed.
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