On the 26th November 2004, I moved into this flat. This is a date that is fixed in my mind, because it was a day full of hope and enthusiasm. The flat was a lot less cluttered than the above picture, though the room was full of boxes, mainly containing books and DVDs.
I had managed to bring some things with me - the bookcases, the table, but I had to buy everything else. Plates, glasses, a bin, an iron, a microwave, a TV, etc. I had one chair for what is now the computer table, and another single chair to sit in. It took me 6 months to get round to getting a sofa, and another 6 to get my armchair.
I had a futon-type single bed. I got a proper bed for Helena's room in the first week, and my own bed by Christmas (I think it might have been Christmas Eve that it was delivered).
The first evening, I had my new TV on the table I now use for the computer. I had thought of everything, even down to getting tea towels and a draining thing for dishes. Well, almost everything. I had forgotten to get scissors. I had to cut some wire-grips off the cables on my TV. So I improvised with a knife. This did the trick, but also sliced into my hand. It was then that I realised I'd not thought about plasters. So before I could settle down to an evening in front of the box, I had to drive bleeding to the nearest garage.
Every year, I remember not the end of my marriage, but the start of a new life, and how lucky I am that it was a relatively painless transition (apart from the loss of several pints of blood). Last year, I bought my computer. This year my finances are too occupied with paying divorce bills to make any major home improvements.
Though perhaps I should invest in a maid...