Bitter sweet

Today I drove to my third year university flat to move everything home.  Over the past year I spent time and money on transforming a £60 a week all-in dingey students digs into a room more 'like me' than my own room at home.  Although I struggled, my third year at UCLan was by far the best social/entertainment/friendship wise. I literally had the funniest year of my life and will miss the girls I lived with alot.  I will always remember the bitter sweet year in the aptly named "Rat Flat".

My room has been adorned with candles, photo frames, lambs, blankets, mirrors and several hundred ornaments, signs and letters.  Although some would say these things are not like me at all, those closest to me know how soft I am and absolutely adore anything cutesy.  

Although small (and had a single bed!) my room at University was unlike my room at home and was very cosy with pretty pinks and blues.

As the rest of the building was pretty much a dump and above a locally know "drug bar", it came to no surprise when things started to go wrong. Within the year we had mould, a flies nest, the building had rats, leaking shower, two walls and parts of the ceiling collapsed. On Sunday, a rat found its way from the sewers and up into one of our toilet bowls.  My mum was due to move my things out of the flat as I would be at work, but since she was an erratic phobia of mice and rats I requested from the landlord that I could move out today. He immediately agreed.  As I walked into my flat today, I was greeted by this;

Every single thing that had been in my room, wardrobes, drawers, kitchen had been thrown away. I was told that every year they threw unwanted laptops, clothes, furniture away that had not been retrieved. In tears I told him I had had permission to move out today as he called his boss, and his boss, and his boss.  The landlord was absolutely furious and told me he told the cleaners not to touch my room.

I spent half the afternoon rummaging through bags of rubbish and gone off food in 26C heat until I came across some of my clothes and belongings. A few of the men had to retrieve some items from a local charity shop. I'm not even sure what is missing just yet, however, the most important things to me are gone. Diaries, cards, letters, inscribed photographs and university work have now all lost forever. It sounds silly but it feels odd that all of the things that are so obviously precious to me could be seen as just rubbish to all those people gutting my room today. You'd think one would at least say "hold on a minute..." I will only look back and laugh. (I hope)

Here's to a brilliant third year at university anyway, despite the terrible ending. I did it. End of an era. 

R x