A Problem

It's 6am as I write this and I have to say I'm a little bit grumpy. I've been up since half 5 and the choice was not mine.

My new boyfriend snores. He snores like a fucking percolator in fact and I must have had around 3 hours sleep last night if that - well I know I was awake at half 2 because I was here in the kitchen staring out into the darkness teary-eyed and a bit despairing. And this happens every time he stays over.

I've also got a friend staying and, as she's a doctor in the middle of 24 straight 14-hour days, I offered her my bedroom which means the cats were shut out into the hall and have managed to rip up most of the carpet trying to get in. My friend is staying for a month or so as I'm about to leave for the Festival I work at each August and she's going to flat-sit as she's relocating back to Brighton but can't find anywhere to live because she's being worked to death and has no time to look. The poor cow worked nearly 100 hours last week.

This wouldn't usually be a problem but, because I leave on Saturday, my new fella stayed over as we're not going to be able to see each other again before I go. What do you do about someone who snores apart from shouting "for the love of God, I'm begging you... begging you to shut up!" right in their ear? I try to get him on his side but of course I have to be awake to do this and once I'm awake... well you know how that works.

I think he's allergic to the cats so I hoover the flat and the bed before he comes over, I change the sheets, I use a rubber brush on the carpet to get more fur out, I open all the windows and I've also started using some cat lotion that you rub on them once a week to help allergy sufferers. I've only used it once so far and you have to apply it to them weekly. It wasn't cheap either. 

So now I'm in the same situation as Sunday where I slept so badly the night before that I had to try and sleep in the afternoon so I could feel half human. I've also got so much work on with the festival that I could despair - I so don't need to be tired today. I tried ear plugs when he last stayed over (attractive) but he rolled over and snored right into my head.

I'm a really good sleeper as well. I'm quite a light sleeper but I never have problems getting to sleep on my own and I would even go as far as to say it's something I do really well. I'm just not used to this 'being awake in the middle of the night and crack of dawn' shit and could really do without it frankly.

Any suggestions?

It's Not Just About a Beanbag

I've just returned from my ex boyfriend's house after what was a lovely evening ended in a row and me storming off. I think the argument started being about one thing and ended up being about another.

A while back we took a rocking chair and a lovely soft cream beanbag that I owned over to his Mum's for safekeeping as the flat was getting a bit cramped. Now that I have moved out and asked for the beanbag back it seems to have disappeared. It's not so much that it's gone, it's the lack of concern that has angered me.

His Mum has had a vague look and can't find it, she says she doesn't know where it is and hasn't given it to anyone. And that appears to be it. It seems to be a case of "oh we've lost your stuff but never mind". Nobody has apologised or has even given me the opportunity to graciously say "oh, that's ok,  don't worry, these things happen". 

My ex said it was just a beanbag and that "sometimes things just get lost". But things don't just get lost - it must be bloody somewhere. I don't have many possessions and I'm the only person who's even tried to locate the damned thing (I emailed his family to find out if anyone had seen it). Surely his Mum should have done that? I pointed out to my ex that if "someone must have it" then perhaps 'someone' should email all his Mums's friends to find out who. It's the lack of concern or ownership of the problem that I'm annoyed about.

I know it's just a stupid replaceable beanbag but it was mine and I don't lose my things because I take care of them. I rarely lend things and I don't surround myself with tonnes of possessions either. It wasn't expensive but I liked it and wanted to keep it. Whether someone else thinks I should care about it isn't up for debate.

As I walked home I realised I was annoyed about other things I'd lost. I'd also lost my favourite ring while I lived there - I'd had this ring since I was 18 years old and I bought it with my own money. It was the first piece of jewellery I bought and it was quite expensive for an 18 year old. It span round and was so unusual that strangers used to remark on it. I'd had this ring for over 23 years and I loved it dearly. The last time we both saw it, it was on the shelf in the kitchen. My suspicion was that his 16 year old daughter had taken it (all teenagers nick things, I didn't care if she'd taken it I just wanted it back) but when asked she said she hadn't. 

I kind of hoped she had as at least I would have gotten it back. But now it's gone and I'm gutted. I feel bare without it and it sounds silly but I had it so long that I felt it reflected who I was. I had debated long and hard about buying it and it was so expensive (for me) that I kept putting it back but always came back to try it on week after week. One day I asked the seller why nobody else had bought it; she said that lots of people tried it on but that it only seemed to fit me.

I realised that lately I have not only lost my ring, I have also lost my home, my relationship and my cat. And on the walk home I realised that I felt furious about it. I feel from the bottom of my heart that I truly put everything in to that relationship and he was the one who let it slide into ruin. I finally found someone I wanted to make it work with and I put in the effort and he didn't. He was the one who went out drinking the night I moved in, he was the one who had problems and wouldn't see anyone about them, he was the one who pushed me away so he could see the TV, he was the one who stopped trying. And I ended up losing everything I wanted because you can't make a relationship work on your own.

I'd never understood or wanted to try hard to make things work in a relationship before, and I finally did and he didn't bother. I saw it sliding at so many points and tried to talk to him about it but to no avail. I tried to point out that all these little things would add up to it going to shit and he did nothing to stop it happening. I spoke to him about my concerns and he didn't care. He even has form for this - this is how all his relationships end and he's such a dick that he doesn't ever learn and change.

So I think the stupid beanbag represents just one more thing that I've lost without anyone caring that it has gone or taking any care to prevent it. And that's why I'm pissed off.

Ten Down ? To Go

Brighton: Still worth it?

I have now been to see 10 properties in 6 days - this flat hunt is proving harder than I thought! Brighton is now not worth the money in my opinion. It's a case of Emperors New Clothes and the price of the properties are outweighing the benefits of living here. Brighton has gotten too big for its boots and believes it's own hype.

I have seen some of the tiniest one-bedroom flats you could imagine and they cost £800 a month. And they are the cheap ones! What a disgrace. None of them would even fit my client's dining room table. And they wonder why people don't sit down to eat any more - because they can't even get a table in their bloody flats is why!

If I had to move again on my own I could not afford to live here any more. Yes it's a city, yes it's quite near to London, and yes it's by the sea, but we're an island for God's sake - there's a lot of bloody towns by the sea here! I have seen some ok places a bit further out but even they are expensive. And I can't imagine the prices going downwards in the future can you?

When I first started this blog I lived with a friend in her 2-bed house. I went to see her yesterday as she's expecting another baby and she told me they'd just accepted an offer and were moving out of town so they could have a proper garden (proper means grass not a tiny concrete space) she said that I was one of her few friends left in Brighton as the others had been priced out or moved to get a better life and a bigger home.

Another friend has moved 25 mins train journey away as she split up with her boyfriend and couldn't get anything in town she could afford. She now pays £700 per month for a lovely 2 bedroom flat where she works from home - but she had to move 15 miles away. The problem is that, as freelancers, agencies want you to pay 6 months rent up front so she had to cash in her savings bonds and now has nothing left. Who has that kind of money? It's ridiculous.

Nobody can get on the housing ladder in the UK without help and, because I'm a freelancer, I have to give 3 years financial records to prove to the banks (that I helped bail out) that I could afford their mortgage. So people here are being charged a fortune in rent which means they can't save the money to put down a deposit for a more permanent home. The flats here are all converted houses so you often have noisy neighbours. I personally have moved around 16 times in 20 years.

What a nightmare. I should be able to find somewhere for £800 out of town a bit to live in but I can only afford it as my client will be paying half. I'm going to use the opportunity to save like a sod so I can make sure I'm not ever left in this situation again. He might not be a client for ever so I need to make sure I'm ok. Ideally he'd buy a flat in the area and let me rent it haha! 

I'm not even sure if I can take Dillinger with me as most of the properties don't have access for him to get out and all the landlords say no pets anyway. They won't know that I'll be living in the flat let alone a cat as well. The whole thing is proving a bit stressful now and it's only been a week.

I Have a New Blog And a Dirty House

Phew - I finally have a new blog where I can say what I like and where nobody in 'real life' knows me. What a relief that is. For 3 years on my old blog I could say what I liked, but over time people found out about it (my fault through accident or blabbermouthing) but the main problem was that my boyfriend did too.

I love my boyfriend but I have always had problems maintaining relationships because I'm very self-sufficient and hate compromise. I also don't like being questioned, and I need to do what I want, when I want without it being subject to debate.

Even though I staunchly stated that I could write what the hell I liked on my old blog, in reality I didn't because sometimes I wanted to talk about him and I didn't want either him or my friends to read about our problems. Now I can say what I like again so here is one of my main issues: I moved in to my boyfriends flat a year and a half ago and it still doesn't properly feel like my home.

I find living with other people hard at the best of times and I hate compromise. I hate it with a vengeance. Knowing you should and have to compromise is one thing but actually being able to do it, or liking it is another. We live very differently and because I've moved in to his house any compromise usually falls on me because I'm so tidy and it bothers only me.

We are planning on moving to the top flat of his Mum's house at some point, but you have to put a flat on the market in order to actually sell it, and so far he hasn't done this. He says he's 'considered' whereas in fact he simply procrastinates and things don't get done. We've been discussing selling the flat for months now and I've given up reminding him to put it on the market week after week.

I clean this flat every week or so and each time it is covered in dust. It's the basement flat so an hour after dusting it has all been shaken back from the ceiling and it's covered again. On top of this he collects things (like everyone in his family it turns out) There is some kind of George Formby grill thing standing in the hall that has been there since the day he bought it home months ago.  He keeps bringing things back that he never uses and that we don't need. I then need to either find a home for them or they stay lying around gathering dust.

There are musical instruments he never plays, dozens of electrical wires snaking across the floor that never get sorted despite me bringing it up repeatedly since I moved in, piles of brochures or magazines everywhere, clothes chucked where he takes them off. There's not enough room to put anything and there's too much of that stuff. I know he lives here too but the 'compromise' is killing me. I used to love cleaning and now I hate it - I'm defeated by the frequency needed to stay on top of it so I don't want to even bother. So it gets dirtier and I'm trapped in a cycle of frustration and anger.

I don't hoard things. I have to have things clean, neat and orderly or else I feel stressed and ratty. At the moment I feel like I have a scream constantly waiting beneath the surface ready to come out. There isn't enough room in the kitchen so everything is out, and because it would take so long to clean properly each week I don't do it properly. This means that I know I live in a dirty house and I hate it, hate it, hate it!!

He has lived here for 10 years and there is 10 years worth of accumulated dirt and assorted crap. I love him but for a year and a half I have tried not to see all this stuff - I try to look through it so I can live with him and because I don't want to be without him - but being in a place so cluttered makes me upset and panicky. I'm a minimalist and I feel hemmed in by it all. If I'm honest, If I had the money I wouldn't live with anyone. I'd have a clean, orderly, quiet, white, uncluttered little place all of my own where I could relax and feel calm. But I don't have the money.

I know it sounds like I am having a huge slag-off against my boyfriend. And I guess I am, but there is nothing here I haven't said to his face... time and time and time and time again, over and over and over. And it is my new blog - a place where I can finally say what I like again, and I really need to let it out because I'm getting nowhere saying it at home. I've tried just changing things but there is only so much I can do, and once I clear a space he fills it with some other piece of crap he's bought home!

It's actually a lot better than it used to be believe it or not. He kindly got  rid of a lot of stuff when I moved in and he does try - but there is not enough room here for everything to look as tidy as I would like. He doesn't mind the clutter so the compromise is all mine and until we move it is always going to be. And when that will happen I have no idea, but it had better be soon because I'm suffocating here.

Vegas - Like Purgatory?

View from my hotel room

Well Vegas is pretty mental. Before you come you think of it as being this bold, colourful, exciting place where everyone is having fun, fun, fun but in reality it's a 24 hour money-making machine that's essentially all fur coat and no knickers!

It's almost like the situation where everyone tries desperately to have fun at New Year but you know it's all a bit of an effort. In fact, hardly anyone looks like they're enjoying themselves playing poker or slot machines - they sit and stare with dead, empty eyes for hour after hour and they all look really sad. 

There's music everywhere - even in the street. There's always really loud cheesy pop songs blasting out of every building or plaza or some chick telling you to come visit this show or eat in that restaurant. It is full on here. There's also lots of people riding around in mobility scooters who look like they have nothing wrong with them.

It's a mixed bag to be honest. Half of me looks at things and is enthralled and the other half is quite appalled. In The Venetian there are Gondoliers rowing about on water under fake painted dusky skies... on the second floor. How weird is that. The fake Trevi Fountain is fun unless you've been to the real Trevi Fountain. I sound a bit jaded about the place and I have had some fun wandering around taking billions of photos, but it's like being in a dream. This place is not any kind of recognisable reality.

Everyone is out for a buck here; if you have no money, or once you have tipped someone for doing their job, you are history. They have absolutely no interest in you apart from what you can give them. On the plus side though, it's very clean and my hotel room at The Mirage is lovely. The maids even tidy up your toiletries in the bathroom which I found quite unnerving at first - I'm pretty tidy & I line things up so they barely had to touch a thing really.

I do miss BBF a lot. I thought I'd be too busy to miss him but that has not been the case. Turns out it's weird being in a holiday destination without anyone you know! I like my own company but I miss normality, decent coffee and having something to do.

Yesterday I discovered Victoria's Secret though. We don't have one in the UK but their bra's are amazing. When I tried on the bra I ended up buying, I let out an involuntary sigh it was so comfortable. It is like a dream to wear. And strangely a size smaller than the one I was measured for and bought in M&S last week. The 2 I bought are not racy (nude and black) but they are without a doubt the comfiest ones I've ever owned... ever.

I fly back tomorrow which will be strange. I leave Vegas at half 4 on a Wednesday afternoon and arrive back in the UK at 11am Thursday! The flight is 9 hours and I have a driving lesson in the afternoon. I definitely need a nap before I attempt to navigate the streets of Brighton in a Toyota Yaris! 

Another great thing that happened (apart from Victoria's Secret) was that I met up with the formidable Wolynski. I have been following and commenting on her brilliant blogs for around 3 years and a couple of days ago she came to the hotel and we had coffee out by the pool. She is a right character and was a joy to be around even if it was only for a couple of hours. How she manages to live here is incredible to me, but I've only seen the touristy strip part of Vegas and not the 'real' bit though.

Anyway, that is Vegas so far. I arrived on Saturday and go home tomorrow; I have yet to talk shop with my potential future employer and I'm sitting around waiting to be summoned. I have no idea why I'm here, what my purpose is, or what is expected of me. I'm in the dark and a bit lost to be honest. We shall see what happens but at the moment it's all a bit unsettling.

Driving Me Mad!

So I guess I haven't posted anything for a while - this is because I have been doing nothing but driving. Driving, thinking about driving, dreaming about driving, worrying about driving and worrying about my business.

Not only has learning to drive been harder than I thought (scary right turns across junctions and navigating roundabouts - apparently thickies learn to drive quicker than intelligent people as they don't over-think everything) but being in limbo for a month has been even harder. 

My business is hanging by a thread until I can pass my test and get a job with the client, so it's a bit of a worry that I haven't even put in for my test yet. I'm just ticking over so I can dedicate 20-odd hours a week to driving and now I don't know if I'm coming or going. Nothing is stable and I have wild moments of insecurity and fear which are totally new sensations to me.

Not being able to do something correctly every day for a month has made me doubt other things in my life which is something that I also didn't predict happening. I sometimes even second-guess myself when I walk across the road and I often make silly mistakes driving when I know what I'm supposed to do. It's disconcerting, frustrating, and brings out emotions that I don't like and didn't even know existed. It's been quite horrible in that way actually.

I have 2 driving instructors as well. One who has the better car (smooth, with power behind it) but spends 20 minutes explaining everything in frustratingly pointless analogies when he could just tell me. He also seems to want me to be the best driver on the planet before I even think about taking a test. The other one is more test-geared but has a shonky car. I've done over 50 driving hours in 4 weeks and I want to be done with it but the thought of doing a test scares me as well which is also an alien emotion... grrrrrrrr!

I cannot wait to have something certain in my life again. I need to know if I have a new job or not, if I have a business or not, if I'm leaving the country of not, if I'm leaving my friends and boyfriend or not, and where my next pay cheque is coming from. It may all sound like a pathetic first-world whinge, but my life has been in limbo for a month and it's very tiring.

I shall sincerely endeavour to write something more interesting on here soon!

Driving is Emotionally Painful

I'm finding this driving malarkey really effing hard. On one hand I am doing really well - hill starts, downhill starts, U-turns, emergency stops, changing gear, driving around, roundabouts - I'm certainly getting there. But it's much more difficult than I imagined. Much more.

To be frank it's the bloody clutch. I know that the clutch has its uses and I understand how it works. But I am not yet at the point where I press it in the direction it needs to go to have the effect I want. I know all this takes time, and I have only had 11 hours of driving, but I want to be able to do it now dammit! 

One of the hardest things (apart from that damned clutch) has been to relinquish control and let someone teach me something. I talk over him, I second guess him, and I'm a bloody pain in the arse. I had a cry in the car earlier as I was so tense, frustrated, and wound up with myself. My job is to control people, ask questions, and to manage people, so to go against my nature is painful.

I am really enjoying the driving part of it though, and I know that in the next few days it should start to come together more and I will feel that I have control of the car. At the moment however, it feels like I'm trying to do aerobics with no sense of coordination whatsoever! I see complete numpties behind wheels and I think "If you can drive then so can I" but maybe because I want it so much, I'm finding it quite difficult to coordinate everything. I'm sure my instructor would say I'm doing marvellously, but I just focus on the bits I can't do very well.

It seems you have to look in every direction at once as well as over your shoulder, anticipate other drivers and the road ahead, steer the car, change gears up and down all the time, find the correct gear, use handbrake control on hills, drive the thing, as well as read and act on signs. I gather that this all comes naturally when you've been driving a while, but at the moment it feels near impossible. I'm desperately hoping that I'm not like Dillinger failing to work his catflap out. Although he did get there in the end I suppose.

Since I was young, I've heard people say "you're your own worse enemy" and at 40 years old, I'm dismayed that I have still not worked it out. I know I'm being overly critical of myself but I'm not used to coming across something that I can't do. That may sound big headed, but I like to think I'm quite bright and can work around a situation - well driving isn't like that. You have to do it right or the bloody car doesn't work!

I do appreciate that with time and practice I will get better until I can drive a car as easily as everyone else. But with such an important job resting on it, I want to be able to do that now and I can't and I'm frustrated. I didn't imagine that learning to drive would be so emotionally painful and that I would learn so much about myself and the way I do things in the process. 

And I'm sure you're not surprised to hear that I don't like it one bit.

Fucking DVLA

I'm so frustrated I could cry - in fact I just have.

To get my driving license I need a provisional license. I have a provisional license but my surname and address have changed so I need to send off for another one. Which could take up to 3 weeks to arrive. It's already been a week and still nothing.

However, my driving instructor can teach me as long as he has proof that I already have a clean provisional license. But because I can't remember where I was living 23 years ago, the DVLA won't help me. This means I have to wait another 2 weeks until my license changes into my new name (I changed my name by deed poll 10 years ago) I'm really pissed off.

I can appreciate that they need to know that I am who I say I am, but I'm so utterly frustrated and upset that I don't care at this moment. This client wants me to have my license as soon as I can, and he will not be impressed that he now has to wait even longer for this to happen.

I'm pretty sure that I lived with my parents when I was 17 and this would be the address on the license. However it is not. I have NO idea what address would be on there and I'm only allowed 3 guesses anyway. So I will have to call every single day to find out if they have changed my license over before I can even bloody start.

To be honest it's the final thing in an utterly shitty day. Today my heavy bike fell over and the chain fell off, the lock then failed to close and I had to abandon it at a friends. It's been nothing but hassle with that bike - it's too heavy, it was overly expensive, I've paid to have the tyres replaced and now the bloody chain is off. I'm selling it as soon as I get it back to the house.

Then a client said they no longer needed me and I already have hardly any work as it is. Then I found out that I have to wait up to another 2 weeks to even start driving lessons. It'll probably be weeks until I can even get a test date and if the client waits that long for me then it will be a miracle. 

Feeling utterly depressed, despondent, and down. Why is it that everything is always such a fucking hassle for me? Throw me an effing bone for God's sake.

Why Are Women so Hard on Each Other?

I've always wondered why it is that women were so hard on other women. I used to think that it was men that criticised and attacked us but I've come to realise that it's mainly us; we do it to each other.

Maybe it's hard-wired into us because even I do it. I watch the news and immediately assess the female newsreader's appearance and demeanour. "blimey, how much lipstick is she wearing?","what a stupid thing she just said, look at her giggling like an idiot". Why do I do that?

A lot of discussion about women's decisions has come to the forefront lately with the cinema release of 'I Don't Know How She Does it'. It seems the premise of the film is appearances - what will (other mums) people say if I'm too busy to bake mince pies for my kids school? Who gives a shit? ...well other mums apparently that's who.

Working mums seem to be critical of stay-at-home mums, they in turn seems to think working mums are bad parents who aren't fit to call themselves mothers. Nobody appears to have any opinion of working dads and they aren't criticised for 'trying to have it all'. Personally I don't think working mums are trying to have it all, I think they just either need to go to work because their family needs the money, or they like working and want something else to do. 

And who could blame them? I'm sure being a stay at home mum is still hard work but frankly spending all day wiping kids snotty noses, singing nursery rhymes, baking cakes and arranging flowers is my idea of a frontal lobotomy. I'm not criticising women who get fulfilment doing that but it's not for me. Well parenthood in general isn't for me as we all know - it looks horrible.

I seriously doubt that any woman would make decisions she thought were detrimental to her family. Mums only want what's best for their children, but decisions are based on each persons personal situation and no size fits all. So why are women's choices hotly debated and judged by other women? I even get flack for not having any children; I'm selfish apparently because what sort of woman doesn't want to have kids? This kind is what and I'm not justifying myself to anyone.

Why is it that men's roles as parents aren't up for debate? Why is it that women get flack for working (or not) and having kids as well? Men have been working and having families for years without any kind of judgement. 

So are women supposed to be the more hands-on parents because of their sex? Are they supposed to do the lions share of the family work so fitting in paid work is frowned upon? Why is having or not having kids and working or not working an issue with women and not with men?

I asked my best friend what she thought and she offered a few suggestions. One was that perhaps men were also critical of other men but just didn't vocalise it, make films about it or write newspaper articles about it. Another (quite plausible) theory was that perhaps women were just bitches, and the one we both thought was most plausible was that women were trying to justify their place in society and the choices they've made by comparing themselves to other women.

But do we know we're doing it? Women were (and still are in many places) second-class citizens so the last thing we need is to turn on each other. Maybe we have higher standards for our sex because of our history? Perhaps we expect more of each other?  Or maybe it's that we're just bitches?

What dya reckon?

Bastard of a Day

I'm going to be blunt here - I have had a bastard of a day.

Because I have a banging headache I am just going to bullet point each rubbish thing and then be done with it.

• I didn't get to bed until gone 3 as I was helping with the election count (I'll do a post about that tomorrow as it was pretty good fun and doesn't fit under the shitty umbrella) I had a very late job come in yesterday so I only had around 5 hours sleep.

• I wake up with a fucker of a headache, take 2 Anadin and get down to some work so I can have it done by the time I go out on my second date.

• At some point mid-morning, it becomes clear that most of the country are Tory-voting Satanists.

• I leave the house to meet the date, run for the bus and the arsehole drives straight past.

• I get to the venue, except it's not the right venue and so I traipse round half of Brighton and turn up late - The 'Made in Brighton' film is then actually about the Polish resistance in WWII rather than local short films.

• We have a pleasant drink and lunch, then after walking with me halfway back declares that he's met someone with whom he'd like to take things further - that person was not me.

• I get home and my head is killing me, one of my neighbours kids decides she will then scoot up and down outside the house for 40 minutes shouting wildly to her sister. I could kill her.

• I check Twitter and see that a friend has invited me to see a film; I decide it would be nice to go as it might cheer me up. I then walk down there only to find it is sold out; so they have tickets and I don't. I buy a slice of cake and come home.

Upon my return, my landlady's girlfriend said "oh well, you never know what's around the corner" I agreed, it could easily be a bus.

And I still have an effing headache!

There's No Place Like Home (I Hear)

I'm having a bit of a stress about moving house at the moment. Due to various reasons (the nature of Brighton plus nightmare landlords, flatmates or neighbours) I've moved 13 times in 15 years - so you'd think I'd be used to it by now.

My flatmate owns her house and her boyfriend is moving in when his lease is up at the beginning of September so I have to relocate. I rang his letting agents yesterday as they have a lovely 2-bedroomed place on the seafront for £800 a month; which is an UNBELIEVABLE bargain in Brighton. 

I was told I needed to stump up £275 in agency fees (for doing what I don't know) I also needed a £1200 deposit and then the £800 rent. Because I'm freelance, they also need 6 months bank statements (although I only went freelance 3 weeks ago) a guarantor, and letters from every client saying how much work I do and how much they pay me. I think they'd also like the family jewellery, my first-born child, and the moon on a stick as well.

I told them to sod off and have decided not to use an agency. I'm not approaching my clients, cap in hand, asking for references. The fact that I am willing to sign a legal document stating that I am liable for the rent should be enough as far as I'm concerned. Brighton estate agents also have a terrible reputation for stealing your deposit for reasons they decide when you want to move out. 

I think the best thing for me to do is to look for a shared flat on Gumtree as most of the properties are fully-inclusive, I have a pretty good budget, and I'm a brilliant flatmate! I do have Dexter so he would need to be able to get outside in some way; but he's such a happy, affable little chappie, and many places already have pets so I'm hoping it's not going to be an issue - well I found all the other places with my previous cat Fraidy anyway.

I'm so sick of moving I can't tell you; I don't really feel like I've had a proper home as the longest I've stayed anywhere is 2 years. I can't afford to buy, places go so fast, Brighton is so expensive and you usually don't get your deposit back until after you move - so you need to find the money to cover it... sigh, such a stress each time... I just want to stay put.