The scariest step of my life

I am now more scared than I was three years ago when I left my home country!

Three years ago I was crazy enough to take a baggage (or ten) and move to Birmingham by my own. Should I mention that it was my first time in the UK and my first time travelling without my parents? So, logically, I should have been more scared then than now. But no! Back then I was too crazy and immature to realise what actually means to pay the rent, bills and so on. I remember that in 2013 I cooked fried eggs with my dad on Skype because I had no idea if I should use oil, when they are cooked (or burnt) and so on. I remember I had no clue how to wash my clothes, so my friend gave me the best leaving present: colour catch sheets! I remember that after only one week my room was a complete mess and I had no clean dishes what so ever so I bought a pack of plastic plates so I could avoid the washing part. I remember that back home I used to leave my clothes all over the house. So I did the same when I lived by my own, only to realise that if I am not organised I will die in probably no more than 2 weeks. I should mention that I am a shopaholic so of course my parents were sure that I would spend all my money in the first day in Armani.

But years have passed and now I am more excited about Tesco than Armani (or at least I am lying myself to believe that), I no longer use colour catcher sheets, I gave up on plastic plates and I managed to pay my bills.

So, yeah, let’s see how mature I am.


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