I can honestly not think of a better way to start the morning than with opening my window as far as it will go (precisely 2.5 inches) and breathing in the sweet London air: wet tarmac infused with that heady scent of – how you say? – Grey. Beautiful.
This window does not condone suicide.
The London Sky – A thing of beauty.
Reassured by the familiarity of the sight and content in the knowledge that my window is prohibiting me from recklessly taking my own life for yet another day, I stumble into the kitchen.
The kitchen sink. It’s looked worse. A lot worse.
It’s the smell that strikes first. Stale potato waffles maybe and oh, what’s this? The strands of crusty noodles latticing the hob tell me that the sweet and sour odour must be from Korean Guy’s late night ramen. I try to ignore the green fuzz sprouting from the microwave – sometimes ignorance is bliss.
I don’t even want to know.
Now, what to have for breakfast? The thought crosses my mind briefly before I realize that I’m left with only one option. The fridge door has been left wide open again. My milk is smelling worse than a cow’s own anus and is quite possibly preparing to join the recruits of a Louis Pasteur experiment. Porridge it is then. Without milk. In other words, gruel. I’d never considered the link between a student’s life and those orphans in Oliver before. After a few seconds of pondering I conclude that the similarities are slim, but begin to mentally sing the film soundtrack anyway.
I’m sorry, poor neglected scales.
With golden syrup laden gruel in hand, I head back to my room. Oh, to eat breakfast whilst simultaneously watching Youtube videos…the luxury. And to think I’m paying £189 a week for this privilege. Only one word comes to mind: Bargain.
Robert Pattinson Mug. Bring ing class to the situation since 2011.
To The Table 
alice, I feel you need to come to our camberwell kitchen more often… I will rescue you when you need a quiet homely place to cook! we have a permanent sourdough starter, anna has started baking cheesecakes and bagels and pleasurebread and croissants, i have been putting pomegranates in everything, there’s a record player… COME AND JOIN US! xxxxxxx
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Oh my, oh my, oh my. It sounds like a dream. You had me at sour dough starter. If I started making one here I fear it would be mistaken for the other mouldering shit in our kitchen and thrown away by the cleaners. Oh, it really does sound like you’re living the dream Emma, cheesecakes and bagels, what more does a girl need? I might just have to pay you a visit…. (and thanks for commenting by the way!) xxxxx
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