Putting the 'Ho' Into Homelessness

So remember how I was excited to live in a proper flat next year, even if I was sort of living in a glorified closet? It turns out that I'm not. Apparently, I can't just get tacked onto the lease as a fifth roommate because the occupancy of the house is limited to four people and there are actually regular inspections to confirm this. Instead, the landlord wants the four people on the lease to pay the full amount of the rental, and then for me to pay about 300 pounds a month to stay as a "guest" (which may or may not be legally recognized as a category of occupant) in my cubicle-sized room. I got an email from Genevieve panicking about this when I woke up this morning, called to get the deets, and decided to stay in my college's housing, where I will a) have ample room to dance when the mood strikes me, and b) not have to do any extra reading about squatters' rights. I coped just like I always do - I lounged in my pajamas with toast and my study guide until I finally showered and put on my favorite ill-fitting muscle shirt and a different pair of pajama pants at, oh, 3pm. I punctuated it with episodes of Family Guy. Now that I'm typing this, it might be a good thing that I'm not living in a flat next year, because I'm not sure I'm grown up enough to do that. I'm actually kind of a baby.