A part of me hates visting others...
... for the simple reason that it brings into sharp focus what an utter shithole I live in.
Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the hospitality I am shown, the opportunity to legitimately drink other's tea and eat their biscuits. It's just that I can't help but become ever so slightly (and obviously) envious of how tidy, well-kept and generally salubrious other people's pads invariably are.
My digs are cheap, don't get me wrong, but that's the solitary virtue of them. I see the clean lines and smart decor of other's pads and quail at the thought of the damp walls, peeling wallpaper and ill-fitted, delapidated fixtures of my own. I don't think there's a single door in my flat that isn't either hanging off its hinges or doesn't quite fit the frame.
I'm perpetually flat broke aswell. I bought some chicken from the butcher's the other day to make a curry. This seemingly simple task became a momentous occasion in my head as I realised that tonight I would dine for the first time in some days on something that hadn't come out of a tin. My hand was practically quivering as I handed over my £2.50.
I think to myself sometimes that I surely deserve better. I lie awake at night, my pillow inches fom the damp patch on my bedroom wall, pondering my quandry. I should be living in comfort, wallowing in my palatial dwelling and feasting on the fat of the land. Then I remember I am a struggling artist, enduring my inevitable period of penury until sweet recognition emancipates me from all this squalor. Then my pretentiousness crumbles like spent charcoal as it dawns on me that I am just a four letter gag merchant who is on the very bottom rung of the professional ladder, and I am living like this because (in my eternal wisdom) I decided that I would accept a compromised lifestyle to accomodate the fact that I don't really work for a living.
Then I get up and have tea and (if I'm flush that week) biscuits, and count my meagre blessings.
All things considered, I don't think things are going too bad.
Peace. X
Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the hospitality I am shown, the opportunity to legitimately drink other's tea and eat their biscuits. It's just that I can't help but become ever so slightly (and obviously) envious of how tidy, well-kept and generally salubrious other people's pads invariably are.
My digs are cheap, don't get me wrong, but that's the solitary virtue of them. I see the clean lines and smart decor of other's pads and quail at the thought of the damp walls, peeling wallpaper and ill-fitted, delapidated fixtures of my own. I don't think there's a single door in my flat that isn't either hanging off its hinges or doesn't quite fit the frame.
I'm perpetually flat broke aswell. I bought some chicken from the butcher's the other day to make a curry. This seemingly simple task became a momentous occasion in my head as I realised that tonight I would dine for the first time in some days on something that hadn't come out of a tin. My hand was practically quivering as I handed over my £2.50.
I think to myself sometimes that I surely deserve better. I lie awake at night, my pillow inches fom the damp patch on my bedroom wall, pondering my quandry. I should be living in comfort, wallowing in my palatial dwelling and feasting on the fat of the land. Then I remember I am a struggling artist, enduring my inevitable period of penury until sweet recognition emancipates me from all this squalor. Then my pretentiousness crumbles like spent charcoal as it dawns on me that I am just a four letter gag merchant who is on the very bottom rung of the professional ladder, and I am living like this because (in my eternal wisdom) I decided that I would accept a compromised lifestyle to accomodate the fact that I don't really work for a living.
Then I get up and have tea and (if I'm flush that week) biscuits, and count my meagre blessings.
All things considered, I don't think things are going too bad.
Peace. X
posted by Ben Schofield at 8:49 PM
5 Comments:
call the bloody landlord! they are SUPPOSED to fix all that!
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