I was worried about living alone. Not really from a security point of view (although after watching a particularly harrowing Game of Thrones episode, I would have preferred to go to bed knowing someone else was on board. They could have distracted the white walkers while I swam to safety. They don’t strike me as the kind of fictitious creatures that would do well in the water.) I was more concerned that I might be lonely.
As it turns out, I am far from lonely. At times I make a concerted effort to be antisocial as my neighbours are unfailingly (and wonderfully) chatty. And living solo has had some unforeseen benefits.
No one gets annoyed at me for leaving dirty clothes on the floor or not doing the washing up for four days. (Although now the washing up never gets magically done by flat mates who are sick of waiting for me to leap into action.) I could wander round naked as much as I liked (though my neighbours on both sides might not appreciate that so much as I rarely remember to close the curtains. So that one largely remains hypothetical.) And the best one is that I can turn my living room into a workshop and no one complains about me blocking the view of the television or the way to the kitchen.
One night, I arrived home from work with an unexpected drive for DIY. Several months earlier, I had thought it would be nice to make some shelves to fit inside the large blue travelling chest in the corner, and had bought (what I hoped were) the necessary materials. And then ignored them. But no longer. I measured, made ‘probably’ calculations (that will probably fit, that’s probably how shelves are put together, I will probably not saw off a finger) and got to work with the hacksaw (probably the right tool).
Sawing is hard work. Nailing wood together so it makes a right angle is tricky. Sawdust gets everywhere, even when you are making tea and nowhere near the workbench. But I also discovered the enormous sense of satisfaction at making something useful.
Something useful that fits in the space for which it was intended.
Something useful that does not collapse the moment you put anything on it.
I’m thinking of setting up a sideline business. So if you are in the market for bespoke furniture, ideally that will be hidden in another bit of furniture, don’t mind about rough edges or slightly wonky joints, then please get in touch.
This blogpost was brought to you by ‘Happy‘ by Pharrell Williams.