Sven's life in Oz

When I first realised I would be living alone I was rather worried that I would have nothing to do, no one to do it with and nowhere to do it.  It turns out that all those people who said “Sveny, you have nothing to worry about” were right: I’m jam-packed till the middle of the week after next already.  I’m not complaining; I love being busy.  It’s nice to have things to do to get me out of the house.

James’s flat finally completed this week and on Friday he moved the last of his stuff out of my home and now we are now officially living alone.  Of course I was straight round on Friday night to help him unpack and get everything set up.  I’m quite jealous as his flat is twice the size of mine and has two toilets, but I only need one bathroom so it’s not much of a complaint, is it?  After a quick dinner at the local Thai restaurant the time came to go home, back to my flat for my first ever night of living alone.  It was a very strange feeling saying goodbye to someone I’ve seen every day for the past nearly four years, but I’m sure it will become more natural with time. Back at home I decided the best way to really enjoy the first night of solitude was to stay up all night watching The Matrix and drinking gin-and-tonics and Frangelico.  I woke up at 2:30am on the sofa and dragged myself into bed.  An inauspicious beginning if ever there were one.

The following day I could hardly think for things going on.  James and our friend Kristie arrived at my flat just as I was putting on my Bioré nose strip and took me out to buy a new kettle and a shedload of booze, and my second attempt at wrenching out those blackheads was thwarted by my afternoon date arriving literally the very second I applied it to my face.  Clearly Fate had other plans for my nasal sebum that day, and I was forced to bring it on the date with me for an afternoon of bowls in the sun. It’s a very popular sport amongst the youth in Australia, mainly because you stand around in the beautiful weather and drink all afternoon, I should imagine. Certainly that’s the appeal for me.  Amazingly I managed to come away with only a very slight toasting, given I was standing in direct sunlight for most of the afternoon and have the DNA of a ginger person. By rights I should be lobster-coloured.  Perhaps the nasal sebum has hidden properties…

After my topping up my Vitamin D and alcohol levels at the bowling green I was back at James’s flat within an hour to help him break in the carpet by spilling wine all over it.  This is where the shedloads of booze comes in. We sat on the floor, ate crisps and drank cheap sparkling wine till the place was littered with empty bottles and I almost had to crawl to the taxi to get home.  I rolled in at about 3am and, after some ill-advised twittering (I always say the most ludicrous things when I am drunk) I passed out with my head in my laptop some time around four.  Thank the gods for the thunderstorm today – I had promised to hit the Danks Street Festival but the rain put an end to that plan and let me mooch about the house in my trackies all day.  A well-deserved rest, I feel.

Next week, in amongst the dinners, birthday parties, dates and movies, I also have to hold down a full-time job and get 8 hours a night.  Good job I can multi-task!