When I finally broke the news to my folks, that I was actually going to move out into my own flat, I did not get the reaction I expected. I mean, they were always the ones who were like, "Go on, be independant you pampered daddy's little girl". But with this little shocker, they along with the rest of my gazillion family members, went all, "What the hell you moving out for?" on me.
Being the thorough analyser and too-much-thinker that I am, you would assume that I would have the perfect answers to the most common questions expected in such a situation. Questions like:
"Why do you want to move out of the hostels?"
"What exactly is wrong with the way you're living now?"
"How can you take on such a huge responsibilty along with managing your studies?"
"Do you really think living with other people and sharing a house with them will be easy?"
Ok. So I didn't exactly have an answer to these questions. We just felt like we wanted to move out ok. We had absolutely no problem in living our lives of luxury in the hostel...but we needed a change. Responsibilty you say? Well...hmm, I'm 20 years old. I'm sure I can handle it. I hope. And as for tolerating other people? Please, we do that all the time anyway. It's not like I'm moving in with my arch-enemies, they're my friends for heaven's sake. Plus, those bloody matrons were totally screwing up our social lives.
When lovely daddy finally gave in (psshhh, him refuse me? Unthinkable!), we were already half way through to finalising the flat. And since then there's been no looking back. Sure the first two weeks were absolute hell, (but that's a story for another time), but now it's all good.
Money, money , money. Never before have we managed our finances like the past month. And it's been absolute hell I tell you. First thing you've got to know if you're planning to move out. You'll end up spending a whole lot more than you think. Seriously. Expenses are never-ending...especially the initial ones. And it's an issue that gets on everyone's nerves. I'm just glad we all talked about how we're going to handle payments way before we moved in. Otherwise it would be chaotic. Not like it's all running silky smooth now...give us back our money you hostel! Before we eat up our fingernails worrying about making next month's rent.
Teehee...ok. So I'm the kind of person who likes getting her own space by the end of the day. A little difficult with four other girls in the same house, but we're all getting used to it now. Everyone has their own little mood-swings and cranky spells. And with a few deadly-dialogues, slamming of doors, blasting of music and killer looks, we easily slide by. No problemo! Hehehe...unless of course our dear Y-chromosome friends decide to crash. Which is 24/7 by the way.
Now, you must understand something. We love our boys. Really we do. But these creatures you see, are like pets. Needing constant cleaning-after and feeding. And so, since their own places of residences have begun looking like, and smelling like, a barnyard, our apartment is a palace to them. A palace where they would always get food, water, and a television.
But we've adapted. Since we have 3 bathrooms, one of them has been made into a boy-bathroom. Bleh, a place none of us girls would even think of stepping into. If we're hungry, we either cook and finish eating how much we can before the boys attack, or order-in before they arrive. They're welcome to finish it, as long as we eat first, otherwise we would never get anything. As for keeping the house clean. *sigh...Boys seem to drag in all the dirt on the street upon their arrival, no matter how much we try and hose them down.
Mind you, we love having them around. After all, what else would we do for in-house entertainment? The hot guys next door have just recently started doing something about it though...
In the end all that matters is, I love it! Squabbles over washing the dishes, leaving the heater on, the tap running, taking out the trash...it's all good. And if it's not, well...our folks are not gonna hear about it.
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