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It is a mere 7 weeks until my friend Chris moves into the house in London. it seems like a both long and short time, and I have so much to do before then. Find s new job for one thing. That or get my own consultancy job up and running.

Ha! A hell of a task summed up in a single sentence. start my own consultancy and make it work. oh, why does real life have to be so much harder than fiction? Chris and I were talking today about when life is like a rom-com; If this were a rom-com then I’d have a roster of glamorous clients within the blink of an eye, all paying me contracts of several thousand apiece. And I could still live under all the bohemian glamour of calling myself “struggling”.

But with a great job and what certainly seems to be the seeds of a great house, well if that isn’t the London dream then I don’t know what is.

The only dark spot in the house is that silly man-child Dmitrius. The sort of man (boy) you’ll find first thing in the morning, slumped over the coffee table like a gangling stork chowing down on a cupcake with the sleep still heavy in his eye. I find that he is the sort of man (boy) that I find it rather hard to like. Is it the same, I wonder, as my dislike for most management? I think that it may be, you know; as if two types of dislike could somehow be cousins to one another. I think it is simply because I find it very hard to warm to people who I perceive as useless or stupid. I’ve alway been drawn to people older, wiser and cleverer than me. I think it’s that at heart I still love to be a student; I love to learn, discuss, debate and questions.

Stupid managers frustrate me because they don’t want to question and improve and innovate, they only want to be obeyed. I may as well be working under a labrador.

Stupid housemates who slump from bed to board and back again frustrate me almost as much and for similar reasons. We may as well own a labrador in that instance – it would probably be better house-trained.

There is something in people like that that I simply cannot warm to. Maybe it is their passivity, maybe it is something in their seeming desire to stay ignorant (a mode of being I think I could safely call ‘repulsive’). It is something in the face too, I love faces that show expression and feeling, probably some sort of hangover from my days in the theatre.

Well, when it came to getting Dmitrius out of the house and back into a more appropriate pond with all of his fellow tadpoles, Chris came up with the post unique plan I’d ever heard.

Chris is a great believer in that “Hygge”, that Swedish thing about making the home cosier, and plans to help us re-vitalise the communal living room in order to make it more…Well, more Hygge.

His plan was to use “Hygge as a weapon”; to make the house so un-bro friendly with collections of books, scented candles, fresh flowers and assorted other things that our resident frat-boy simply won’t be able to take it any more. Now I must admit, of all the things that I’d ever considered using as a psychological weapon, I don’t think that “Hygge” was ever one of them. Yet I had to admit that there seemed to be some merit to this plan; if nothing else it would save the awkward conversation about why we wanted him to move out.

Hygge as a weapon – try it.

But Chris always could make me laugh, I guess that’s one of the reasons that I can’t wait to live with him properly. It’s so odd to secretly think — in uni, I thought myself completely in love with him (bear in mind that back then I didn’t have the first idea what love was). And now we will be sharing a fridge together, seven years later. Isn’t odd how the patterns come round and about?

I feel like my pattern is moving me towards something incredible. Hygge may be the weapon we can use to get Dmitrius to leave, but more important for me right now, I think, is my own perseverance.

Things seem to be moving in an amazing new direction; a place where I can be happy for others as well as myself. Perhaps it’s just wishful thinking, but I feel like something incredible is lurking just out of reach, if only I can have the courage to reach out and take it.

I thought today, as Chris arrived to start his London adventure, about my own and all the amazing things I’ve seen and done since I’ve been here; from the sophisticated heights of the Carlton Club to the scummy back-streets of Stratford.

And right now, I don’t think I’d have it any other way. This is my adventure, why on earth would I want to spend even a single hour of it bored and bullied in an office?

Consider that next time you think it’s worth just “sticking it out.”

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