Don’t get me wrong, I know that living at home suits others quite fine; it’s inexpensive, handy on lazy days and for many, your family house is full of comforts but after spending 3 years away from home at uni and dabbling in a bit of travel, I just haven’t coped very well being back in with the parents and the 5 million other people that seem to reside in my house. Although I haven’t yet managed to save to get myself out there and rent (because I don’t want to be completely foolish and leave with no money), it’s still on my list for next year because nobody got time to be 23 and living at home.
Grab yourself a cuppa and a snack you cuties because this is why –
Because I really want a coffee maker and if I whacked one out at home, it would be abused.
Because you can only have the same meals 469072 times before you start planning what you’d eat if only you lived on your own.
Because walking around in your underwear isn’t acceptable when your brother and his army of friends are flapping around 24/7.
Because maybe I’m excited about constantly cleaning alright, sueeeee me.
Because my food shop would just be the most epic and pleasurable shop on the planet and gluten/soya/happiness free food sucks.
Because being in a relationship and hiding in my bedroom isn’t much of a laugh (well… that’s arguable)
Because being interrogated every time you’re brave enough to sit in the living room isn’t a laugh either.
Because my interior design Pinterest board is going to waste and my sanity neeeeds cute fairy lights and coffee table books and endless cushions and seasonal candles.
Because nothing screams being an adult more than housewarmings and dinner parties.
Because trusting your parents to wash what you want to wear on Friday night just isn’t worth it anymore.
Because there’s more to life than living at home until you’re 40 so that you can save and get a mortgage (sorry, but there is)
Because not being told when you’ve run out of coffee or toilet paper or someone ate the chocolate you bought for yourself is the ultimate betrayal and it happens daily.
SO, as well as the fact that my favourite hobby involves scrolling through right-move on the daily just in case I win the lottery and can move out tomorrow, the dream that I want to travel and live abroad and be sassy, rich and never work a day in my life again; is most likely not a very realistic life plan.
Erm, which by the way, why not?
Aside from the thought of half of my wages (and then some) going on a pretty new flat is a little bit scary, so is waking up at 25 and still being in the same bloody bedroom. I’ma lover and have no hate for those that love being at home and do want to save a nice big deposit for a home one day, but I’m just not there yet. I want my own pretty things and my own pretty fridge and my own pretty bedroom and my own pretty coffee table and if I’m not off to see the world again anytime soon, my own pretty rented apartment would be the dream.