There have been a fair few ‘moving house’ announcements on this blog. They’ve all come within quite a short time span and they have progressively become less excited: Whilst moving to London required capital letters and exclamation marks, Brighton was a more civilised but nonetheless smug little announcement post. Eastbourne almost didn’t get any recognition at all; a subtle change which I was less than thrilled with.
I tried to give my time in Eastbourne at least a little bit of credit. I really wanted to incorporate a positive paragraph, but as they say – If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all. So we’ll leave it at that.
Another factor which has contributed to my decision to move for the fourth time in 22 months, and the third time in 9 months, is that I felt ready to jump back into a social life that extended beyond a chat with the local barista at Starbucks. In times of low or unsteady income, new challenges or simply extortionate renting prices, one’s gotta do what they’ve gotta do, and with the decision to move to Eastbourne not being voluntary and purely financially fuelled, I’d grown to feel really comfortable in my own little bubble. With no nightlife on your doorstep, or a group of friends to meet with, it’s easy to sit at home 24/7 and make up reasons as to why this isn’t that bad.
But I no longer want to be forced to sit in my own bubble. I want to retreat to it if I want to, but I want to have opportunities on my doorstep and an exciting surrounding which makes me want to get out there and get what I want – metaphorically and literally.
I was kind of done with the South and its ridiculously expensive prices, anyway, and I’d heard a lot of good things about the North, not least that the people are a lot friendlier… so up I went and this is where I’ll stay.
Manchester, what’s good?
’til next time x