We have been here four days and it already feels like a lifetime. A fairly sharp turn in lifestyle to be sure, but one to which we are already becoming accustomed. And a week ago we felt so young, yet here we are, already facing the unpleasant responsibilities of being Tenants, resurgent Students and City-dwellers, confronted daily by unpleasant words like Payment, Credit Reference and Obligation.

If this week underscores anything it is how far from reality last year was - living like kings in a daily-vacuumed biosphere with quiet and noise on tap, isolated from the real world until we chose to step outside. Did we realise what we had? Probably not. But here we are - having drunk the milk of Paradise we are living among real people once again.

And we are enjoying it so far. Our house has the “crack den” appearance from the street, sandwiched between other former council properties long since bought up and renovated, while ours maintains a “seasoned” look to it - exterior maintenance not high on the Landlord’s list of priorities. But inside it is cosy, the rooms larger than expected and holding the promise of an exciting year to come, as well as a few stories from the past. The kitchen and bathroom are new, which is something of a relief. And the heating works, the neighbours appear to be normal and the property does not sit at the brow of a large hill.

But it is the feeling more than anything that I have tried to verbalise for the last few days, the feeling I experienced when my father’s Jeep pulled away on Sunday, or when I stepped off the step and locked the door behind me that first time as I wandered into town and smelled the movement and carelessness of the place and heard the distant sirens as I became once again a small fish in a very large bowl. And as I walked through the streets I realised that this is just one more step closer to Life; that at least for the time being I can be thankful that I have a reason to be here. In two years time I will be done with “education” and will have to decide how to spend these waking years.

For those of us getting paid monthly, the end of the month is a good time. Unless of course it comes as a reminder of how much we’re getting whipped by our employers.

Today I received my payslip for last month’s work, including the commission from the month before. Having not received commission before I was expecting something in the region of £50 to £100, but was instead greeted with… £19.

Yup, for a salesperson receiving between 15 and 30 phone calls (requiring technical knowledge, good manners and an IQ higher than room temperature) and processing around £3,000-worth of orders a day (a conservative estimate) for 3 days a week for 3 weeks, I apparently have to settle for… 0.05% of my contribution to the business turnover - the grand figure of 0.05 pence in the pound. There’s nothing like making your employees feel like a Valued part of the Team.