Not hungry but homeless... kinda

I love, love, love 'my' apartment. I love the giant living room and the guilty-inducing leather couches. I love the balcony and the proximity to Northbridge and the city. I even love the crack dens that surround us. But in December 'my' apartment will no longer be mine. The lovely friends who have been renting it to me at a heavy discount are, tragically, returning, and while it will be great to see them again I am already mourning the loss of my home.

Shopping around for a new home is a weird exercise. It's fun and a bit sad but, more than that, you're forced to try and imagine yourself into each house you look at. Would you rather be slugging on the couch watching Peep Show (thanks Bec) in this cutesy two bedroom Subiaco cottage or am I more of a drinks-on-the-balcony in Leederville sort of a person? Hmm.

Perth being such a car-based city in theory your choice of home doesn't need to have that much of an impact on your lifestyle. And yet, for me, it seems to.

Living in Northbridge, for example, is great and it's definitely encouraged me to take up mild alcoholism (if not on the lovely balcony than at the pub juuuust a short stroll down the road) as a serious pursuit. The style of the house has also encouraged me to make an effort to have people over ever so often as I don't have crappy tiles and a hideous kitchen to be ashamed of. My previous house, by comparison, had a lovely living room and several lovely flatmates, both of which encouraged me to clock up a lot of couch time and watch perhaps more Angel than one person ever needs to watch.

What will the new house be life? No fecking idea but I could be moving to a neighbourhood near you so keep your doors locked.