Wait a minute. What the hell are you doing in London?

Now I’m back on the blog I need to make a step back and start from the very beginning.

Why am I in London?
What am I doing here?
Where am I living?

I’ll try to answer these questions in a useful way, especially for those who might think to do the same. And in a discouraging way, for those who would like to but are too scared to leave their lovely and comfortable houses.

Once I was back from New York I had to focus on my future. Should I keep studying? Should I look for a job? In both cases a second question came up: where?
My first decision was to opt for the easiest option: staying home, so I didn’t have any rent to pay, and keep studying in Pavia, where I got my Bachelor, so to postpone my job hunt at least for a couple of years.
Everything was settled, I even bought the books to prepare for the course in International Relations with Economics, but then I felt something was wrong. Something wasn’t going as I wanted it to go. And in a corner of my mind an idea started to develop. The same idea I had when I finished my Erasmus in Reading: “I want to study for my Master in England”.

I bought my flight to London Heathrow and made a reservation in a hostel for three nights. That’s all you need when you’re leaving. Oh, well, and patience.
You need to look for a house, a job, open a bank account, get a National Insurance Number and activate a new Sim. In my case I also had to enrol for the Ielts exam and think about which Master to take. These are not things you do everyday, and having to do all these at the same time, well… needs you to be patient. If, like me, you’re not, you’ll freak out every now and then; that’s why you’ll need to buy something with written “Keep Calm and Carry On” and put it where you can see it often.

Keep Calm and Carry On in my room

I managed to get most of the things above in the first couple of weeks. The only thing I still can’t get is a decision on my Master, but that’s a long story we’ll discuss later, if we will.

So I have a lovely – tiny – room in North West London, a tiring but entertaining job as a waitress in Central London and my only shelf – at the bottom of my bed – is getting crowded with books which are giving me more emotion I could have ever imagined. Once in a while I wonder if it’s sad to spend so much time reading books, spending so much time by myself. But then I recall that the same time now I spend reading was earlier wasted on Facebook, than I think it’s a big improvement. Besides, after all the hours I spend at the restaurant – surrounded by colleagues and customers – the company of myself and my books is more than enough.

So, what am I doing in here?

I work. I read. I eat. I sleep.
Nothing special, right?
I could do just the same anywhere else.

That’s the point, I guess.
I’m doing it in London.

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