I’ve been fairly quiet on the blog as of late. There’s been nothing happening other than marathons of Dexter and multiple cups of tea. Since there has been nothing going on, I’ve had a severe case of bloggers block as there has been absolutely nothing to inspire me.

It’s weird to say that it’s been difficult to relax when I’m not currently working, I don’t have any responsibilities and I have nothing to do but when you’re living under other people’s feet 24/7, it’s difficult to totally chill as you feel like you’re in the way and can’t completely be at peace. This past week however, we have had that relaxation time. With Ash’s family away in England, we stayed behind to dogsit and had the house to ourselves in Northern Ireland. We had a lovely week, just us and the dogs, going at life at our own pace.


The older you get, the more you think about settling down and I have thought about this a lot recently. Although, I’m not quite there yet and there’s still a lot I want to do, I do want my own space and would like my own place. This week gave me the chance to play housewife with cooking meals, tidying the house and taking the dogs for a walk. I never thought I was particularly domesticated but it seems to be something that will come with age and probably also a family. It was lovely to have our own space even just for a few days.


Now, in fairness, I’m not exactly new to this. Although I’m technically living with my parents now, I haven’t lived with them full time since I was 18. I moved to university two months after my birthday, living my first year in halls and consequent years in a shared house. It taught me the basics of looking after myself but I never had any responsibility besides me. If the place was a mess, it also wasn’t solely my problem, it was a joint effort and often there were a lot of mind games with people trying to make a point. I’m not innocent in that, I let the bin bags just pile up once because I was sick of being the only person to take them out. It got to seven and a strong smell before I gave in. In your own home, you just wouldn’t do things like that.

After uni, I moved back to my hometown and back in my childhood bedroom. After living away from my parents for so long however, I couldn’t hack it and had moved into my own place within two months. This time, I did have a flat to take care of but still had no responsibilty besides myself and bills. I worked during the day and was often home alone at night so went out for meals with friends, popped round to my parents for dinner or just popped some chips in the oven. Hardly top housewife when I was barely home and didn’t even cook for myself.

The past two years, I’ve lived in shared accommodation abroad with fellow reps. Once again, it’s back to the days of uni and sly digs about who hasn’t been pulling their weight. With this job however comes free meals from the hotels you work in so you don’t even make your own food. For the last two months of Tenerife, I changed accommodation and actually lived in the hotel. It’s hard to be domesticated when you can pop into the restaurant for three meals a day and also have a cleaner.


As lovely as it all sounds to not have to cook for myself, not have to clean for myself and not having any responsibilities, I can find it difficult having people waiting on me hand and foot because I’ve always been independent. This week was a lovely experience of completely having to take care of ourselves. No one else was going to cook, no one else was going to clean, no one else was going to feed the animals, it was all down to us. I loved it. I even made my first ever chilli.


I probably shouldn’t take it for granted while I don’t have any responsilities because I’m sure once I’m playing housewife full time, it will quickly take it’s toll but I loved this week of independence.

All opinions are my own and just that: opinions. This blog post was not sponsored or endorsed in any way.


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