The words ‘student housing’ are ones that seem to incite equal amounts of fear and excitement into the hearts of many a university student. Personally, I felt exhilarated for the most part at the prospect of living in an actual house, rather than the confines of University accommodation, though I will admit I did initially approach the matter with slight trepidation.

You see, I had actually wanted to stay on campus in the beginning. I mean seriously, all-inclusive bills, having someone to clean your kitchen and your bedroom, and where else can you find a library, gym and convenience store all within a 20 foot radius of each other? However, being a second year student I was to soon discover, had its disadvantages. Namely the fact that in university-speak, second year basically translates as last on the housing food chain, which in turn leaves people like me left searching elsewhere for room and board.

Upon the realisation that I wasn’t going to have any luck on this route, I tried to think of all the positives of living out. Finally no more inconveniently timed fire alarms causing me to roll out of bed in my most unattractive attire, only to be greeted by equally freezing sour faced hall mates. No more cleaners barging into my room after a single hasty knock, regardless of whether I’m dressed or not. No more security guards patrolling the corridors ready to pounce at the slightest rumble of a stereo speaker, and certainly no more drunken chants from the first year’s ringing in my ears at 3 in the morning. Not to mention no more stolen food. Thus the process of house hunting began.

Now maybe I had a bit of the old ‘rose coloured glasses’ syndrome, but I didn’t expect the search to be half as arduous as it was - you’d be surprised at the lack of colour coordinated houses on the market - but when me and my future flatmates did find a place, it ticked all the boxes. Four double beds, check (a surprisingly rare phenomenon) garden, check, internet and TV license paid for by the landlord, double check and so on. Then reality happened. Bills have to be paid, which due to unreliable roommates have yet to ever be paid on time (which doesn’t look so good when your names on the bill). The electricity, heating et al use has to be monitored vigilantly as mum no longer foots the bill, nor is it an all-inclusive deal as it is on campus. Chairs broke, ceilings leaked, heating malfunctioned and roommates left, exactly in that order. Not forgetting the case of the phantom food thief (you can take the student out of Uni...)

All in all, living independently has been a sobering experience for me to say the least, with responsibility and patience being two virtues I have come to master. I’ll leave you with two pieces of advice that on reflection, I wish I’d been given. When a landlord appears flexible, it’s code for lazy, and choose your housemates carefully. I cannot stress that one enough. Really.