29 October 2017

The Wondrous Insights Into London Life


It's ok. No need to scold yourself for being optimistic, we've all done it. 'It' being buying into the ideology that living in London is the ultimate 'place to be'. The golden kingdom of adulthood, pretentious weekend brunches sipping mojitos out of jam-jars, after work drinks with the colleagues-turned wolf pack, the place where the grass is finally greener. Ah London, the creme de la creme of what it is to be l-i-v-i-n-g, right?! That would be a negative. 




Now before I go on, I must say that deciding to pack up my cushy life in the country sticks to the city that never sleeps was without a doubt the BEST decision I've ever made. No matter how much I may moan like myrtle about the monstrosities of London, it really is a place that changes you for the better. I may have moved with the backbone of a jellyfish and a skin as thin as a spiderwebs but the strength and resilience I've developed whilst living here is undeniable.



It might seem that I'm dishing the dirt behind her back but really, it's because we're so tight that she can brush it off like the tough gal she is. We're old friends so it's allowed - I scold her for constantly nicking my money when I'm not looking and she returns the favour by berating my choice of Netflix entertainment by causing 'Temporary problems with the current availability of this show'. See, we work together like a team. 




So without further adieu, I behold to you a bloody load few minor inconveniences of London life which I personally reckon sum up the reality of of living in this madam of a crazy city...!

#1. Dressing for the seasons is a total no-go
It's only when a) you finally cross the golden gates into adulthood and realise you have bills to pay or b) move to London and have to navigate the tubes in order to pay said bills that you realise what a total pain in the ass it is to dress accordingly. Everywhere else has it easy, the sun is blazing down so you whack on a strapless dress, it's cold in which case on goes the thick jumper, right? Change the setting to London and it's a different ball-game. You could be strutting down platforms in your birthday suit in the height of summer and you'd still be dripping with sweat like a nun in a strip club. Same goes for winter, the walk to the tube warrants suiting up like the Michelin man but as soon as you step foot underground, that extra thermal t-shirt and cable-knit jumper become the devil's work as your back resembles nothing short of a human waterfall.

#2. Commuting is a daily battle if you don't suit up accordingly and accept being an asshole.
Politeness you say?....Enlighten me to this foreign concept, would you?




#3. If and when you actually reach the platform after mercilessly hauling yourself through the crowds, having to wait more than two minutes for a tube is downright unaccpetable. A casual five minute wait feels like a five hour plane delay.

#4. Even when you've manoeuvred yourself in the tube carriage so you can breath something other than what the guy next to you had for dinner, someone, somehow still manages to slither their way in, forcing you back into your original position behind Dave's active behind. Mmm..garlicky.




#5. The worst thing yet is that you can't even live-report your utter outrage because there's no bloody Wi-Fi. Your drafts folder will have to bear the brunt of your frustrations once again.

#6. Nothing is more satisfying than "accidentally" positioning your elbow into the ribcage of any schmucks behind you who try and get on the tube before you. Away with you, scally-wag.




#7. The days of seeing a garden are nothing but a sweet distant memory. Come to think of it, the colour green is becoming somewhat hazy...

#8. You're unfazed by the sound of fox sex. It's become something of a background soundtrack to life.




#9. You may be a modern-day mother Theresa with the patience of a holy saint but even your good-will will be compromised when stuck behind the loitering halfwits cruising through life at 5mph. Move yo asses guys!

#10. The whole of London is fuelled by the caffeine in the coffee cups we carry; go figure since there's a coffee shop on EVERY corner of London. If not two, three.



#11. Paying £9 for a single vodka Diet Coke doesn't cause any ruffled feathers, even tapping away £15 for a mojito doesn't raise an eyebrow but dropping over £1200 a month for something resembling a box painted white with a camper van cooker, bare bog seat and sink punches you down deep. The second blow comes when your friend living outside London snapchats you the swanky-ass pad he's just part-bought complete with a kitchen island, LED floorlights and a bedroom three times the size of your entire shed flat put together. 'Look at the positives' they say...oh ok you're right, let me just pull down some more cash from my endless money tree to pay for my Poundland imitation super noodles whilst you indulge in your ocado-bought dover sole you smug git.

#12. You've moved to London, you've secured a somewhat decent flat and you've just signed the contract on your first job. You've made it! Working hours may say 9am-5pm but what you've failed to notice is the small print that said 'You stay in that seat until the work is done'. Just a heads up, the work is and never will be done. Sorry.



#13. So after that blow you may think "Well that sucks but work hard, play harder, right?" Oh poppet, you're wrong again! You may think you're in the capital for crazy nightlife but you'll be just too damn tired that your default catchphrase will become "Maybe next week...".

#14. With the endless exhibitions, musicals, broadway shows, restaurants and pop-ups in the city, you'd think you'd never run out of fun things to do. The reality is a) you're either too tired to even make it to your front door, b) you simply don't have the moolah to go or most likely c) after a signal failure on the northern line and one angry journey trying to get somewhere, there is only a small circumference on London that you will venture into. This range includes Sainsbury's, work and your sofa. 




Love, Sarah

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