I was lying on the treatment table yesterday whilst a nice lady called Maya did cruel and unusual things with some thread in order to tame my eyebrows, and it struck me that when I move I’ll be screwed. The problem is not the big things, but rather the little things.
It has taken me four years of living in Southampton to find a hairdresser I trust to do funky but liveable-with things to my hair (and not cost a fortune). The same goes for a beauty parlour where I can trust them to work magic with my caterpillar brows, my favourite deli, coffee shop, skate shop, tattoo parlour, jewellery stores…
The list of the little things is endless.
Now, I’m not saying that London doesn’t have any of those things. I know that it has lots of those things. The possibilities are endless, as the advert says, but how do you start to find them?! I still know people who commute back to their home town to get a haircut. My hairstyle maybe glorious and groovy, but glorious and groovy needs regular maintenance, and there’s no way I’m going to be travelling up/down on the train just to get a haircut!
I know that rather than the little things, I should be worried about the big things: getting a job, where I’m going to be living, things like that. But those are such big worries that I am just not acknowledging them right now. The little ones, those are the concerns that are freaking me out. I’ve settled in Southampton, that’s the problem. I never planned to stick down roots here, but I have.
And then there is all my stuff. Oh lords have mercy, the stuff! I’m a hoarder, a nester, and I’ve got the flat stuffed full of belongings to prove it. Once upon a time I could pack my life into a suitcase and a few cardboard boxes. Now the shoes alone need half a transit van!
Tell me again why I’m so fixated on moving to London?

Welcome to Bright Meadow. My name is Cas and I try to post here once or twice a week. I'm also trying to write a book along with hold down a full time job, blog and have something approaching a social life! Check out my