Change is the only constant

These days my dinner consists of a single thing on a plate; a piece of toasted bread, one egg - sunny side up, and a sausage. A pack of instant noodle and one egg - sunny side up. Sometimes they are leftovers. Like last night; it was half a tandoori nan and few pieces of chicken curry from my lunch at the office.

After the merry housewarming party last weekend, the plates and bowls and glasses and the frying pan and pots seems too much for my consumption alone. I feel affluent; I've never owned so many things before.

It has been quite a change, coming home to a quiet house. As sun sets my feet shuffle around quietly, from bedroom to the kitchen and back to the living room where my books are sprawling on the floor. The only noise I get is from my loyal audio set where it sings its melancholic songs.

I'm still trying to make sense of these new found freedom and its inevitable silence; although sometimes I get struck with panic at its prickling quietness, mostly I cherish the time to get lost in the sea of my own thoughts and imagination, just like Emma Morley does;

"Sometimes she thinks how nice it would be to be woken by a call in the night: 'get in a taxi now' or 'Í need to see you, we need to talk'. But the best of times she feels like a character in a Muriel Spark novel - independent, bookish, sharp-minded, secretly romantic." - One Day by David Nicholls