Great Expectations

“Ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies.”

― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations.

This has been one hell of a week. I’ve vacuum packed everything I own, stuffed it into a suitcase big enough to hold baggage physical and emotional, and I’ve said a sad goodbye to family and friends.

A few weeks ago I confidently stated that moving cities was going to be difficult, but I was ready for it. In the last 48 hours, that statement has proven to be extremely true, but I was in no way ready for it...

My flatmate Lizzie and I moved into our two bedroom apartment on Queens Street. Described as ‘cosy, convenient and chic’, it would be the perfect place for the next six months. I had great expectations for what city living would involve. I’d give a cheery wave to the doorman as I punched the button for the lift, latte in hand. I’d sit on my balcony, sipping a glass of rosé whilst gazing contentedly at the Sky Tower.

However, upon moving in, we discovered we’d somehow rented the apartment from hell. I’m still thoroughly convinced that I’ll walk down our hallway and encounter a set of twins chanting ‘come play with us’…

Think I’m overreacting? Well, read on.

On the first night we were plunged into darkness as our power provider thought that lights were a luxury for poor students.

Forced to light candles to honour the great apartment god above, we hoped our power would be reconnected speedily. Here’s a snapchat video, courtesy of my dear friend Eleisha Foon, of me entering ‘crisis mode’:

And it’s a good thing we finally got power, how else would our demonic dishwasher decide to go AWOL and wash Lizzie’s carpet instead of a few cups and plates? Note: this kick was staged - we're not monsters! Also we're slightly scared that the dishwasher will fight back...

Lizzie awoke to the strong smell of wet dog, only to discover that the dishwasher had heated up to the point where is was ready to catch fire, despite being switched off.

And you thought I was temperamental!

After a particularly stressful night, we thought a nice shower would be in order. Alas ‘nice’ is not the word I’d use to describe the water feature installed in our bathroom… Currently we’re thinking of putting our shower forward as the eighth wonder of the world as it would give Niagra Falls a run for its money.

I’m still working out if this series of unfortunate events is a normal occurrence when moving into a flat. Is it normal to discover that the dryer only works if the bathroom heater is on? You'll be pleased to know that the nicest room in the building is the bathroom. Cheers to that!

While it’s been a stressful and confusing 48-hours, things are being fixed, our dishwasher has enrolled in anger-management classes, and I’m starting to imagine that this could work for us.

Andrew x