Halls to House and the PFLD syndrome.

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Another year of studying commences and the transition from halls to house begins. From October last year, when we signed our contract, the common utterance from flat mates began along the lines of: “When we move into our new house…”.

In our pre-house state we created a glossy, idealised, picture-perfect image of house living. No more cleaners to take over the kitchen when stomachs demanded a carb based lunch at eleven. No more drum & bass music at six in the morning from the flat above after just getting to sleep. And no more bundling onto one bed to watch My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding on 4oD whilst balancing pot noodles on our laps. Yes, life would be so much easier.

Now from a post-flat perspective, house life isn’t so rosy. No one’s sitting on comfy sofas watching something witty, yet educational, presented by Stephen Fry, on the flat screen TV and a domestic goddess isn’t taking a freshly baked cake out of the oven to cool and ice. The kitchen isn’t sparkling, the no shoes rule is already beginning to falter and the bathroom is in a less than desirable state after last night’s curry with the boys.

Quite frankly we miss our flat with the daily cleaner, en-suites and our own areas to mess up without annoying anyone else.  In short we have a touch of PFLD (Post-Flat Let Down Syndrome).

In an effort to cure ourselves we’re making a new start. A new, non disillusional, realistic start. A rota must be drawn up for house hold duties, cleaning products must be purchased and the bills must be kept on top of.  So until this short lived domestic enthusiasm dissipates, the rubbish will find its way into the bins outside, the bathroom will be back in action in a more suitable state and the kitchen will be passable. Though you’ll still find us crammed onto one bed, watching something suitably trashy on a Tuesday night, eating pot noodles and ice cream from the tub.

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