Moving on...

The next place I called home was just down the road from the last.

I had just decided to take on a Bachelor of Science Psychology and I couldn't afford anywhere else.

This unit was TINY. And shit.

I found this image on google maps because I was feeling too unmotivated today to actually drive 20 minutes over to Toowong to take a snap myself.

Yeah I'm lazy. Yeah I'm okay with that.

I probably drank a little too much red wine while living here.

I lived here with Nicci.

We often locked ourselves out of this place.

One night we had just returned home from a romantic bike ride to the bottle shop to realise we had locked ourselves out again. This wasn't stressful as it was a very common occurrence.

Only this time our usual break in plan was foiled. This was due to us actually

remembering to lock the front windows.

Some may call that responsible.

To us it was annoying.

We were absolutely drenched and freezing from the rain and it was Xmas eve.

Let me just mention that we were pretty much broke all the time so even though a locksmith may seem like an obvious solution it really wasn't. Also we didn't know locksmiths existed.

So we decided to smash in a back window with a heavy spanner.

I know what you're thinking... Clever, right.

Nicci wrapped a cloth around her hand and got angry at the glass.

Took a few hits but we got there in the end.

Yep, damn right we high fived.

There was a hole in the glass pane big enough to reach in and turn the key.

But unfortunately,

we had latched the chain from the inside so could only get the door open 2cm.

Plan B came into  action... Nicci kicked the door in.

Only problem was that, she also ripped the skirting and light switch cover off the wall exposing live wires.

Did I mention it was that year we had the crazy scary storm the night before Xmas?

Rain was pouring in and even though we tried calling for an electrician we were out of luck.

We were leaving for Woodford Folk Festival the next afternoon so our solution was to drag a chest of drawers out from the spare room to lean against the back door. Totally secure.

We topped it off by sticky taping some cardboard to the smashed window.

Nicci told me it would be fine.

I pretty much believed everything she said.

We stayed here for 12 months.

There were many, many fun times.

But it was a long 12 months... lots of drama.

I can't stand drama!

Our lease ended with Nicci saying she was going away up north for a few weeks fruit picking.

I packed up our stuff and dropped most of her things off at her mother's house.

My older sister said she could take me in for a couple of weeks or so until Nicci got back and we got another place.

A few weeks went by and Nicci told me she had met someone.

A man.

He was 52.

And a man.

I was a little lost.

Did I mention he was a man?

It was a pretty big blow to the ego.

So I wasn't moving anywhere.

I guess the next post will be detailing how my 'couple of weeks' merged into almost 12 months of residency. 

And how I learnt to deal with the colour pink.