If you haven’t been perusing the Twit feed. I declined the job offer on Tuesday. Trying to find a suitable place to live on the budget I had, based on offered starting salary, was proving to be an enormous challenge. Having a dog is Problem Number One, and especially in London—but when you add to that a limited budget that restricts you to studio flats, bedits or some kind of sharing arrangement…
Time Out. How badly do I want to be there? Bad enough to work my ass off for the privilege of living in conditions worse than the ones I have now? This is a one-bedroom flat I currently live in. Rent is £360 a month. If it was in London, the rent would be £750 a month. Get the picture? A salary that gave me a budget to afford such would have made my life comparatively simple. But the decidedly mediocre salary in question wasn’t cutting it.
The stress from this problem, and repeated visits to London (about £250 of travel expenses down the drain ultimately), was stretching me to breaking point. I started to get cystitis symptoms and finally, on Monday, I had an intensely painful and scary episode that was probably a kidney stone. I thought I was going to be in hospital. People often think that, apparently, with these things, but the stuation’s less grave than the unbelievably terrible pain would lead you to suspect.
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