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jearspeentersbest.website
My name's Sophie. I'm 27. I live in London, in Ealing. Nothing special. I rent a room. Not a flat – a room. In a house with five strangers. Two of them are blokes who stare at me when I go for a shower. I lock the door with two locks. I work at Wetherspoons. Yeah, that one. The pub on the corner. Cheap pints, breakfasts for a fiver, stained carpets, bogs that are always blocked. I run around with trays. Runner, waitress, cleaner – all in one. £10.50 an hour. Tips? What tips. At Wetherspoons, management takes the tips "for staff development." Development is a box of doughnuts once a month. I'm not joking. I work evenings. 4 till 11. Sometimes till 1am if they need help closing up. After 11pm, the Tube's not running. I get the night bus. On my own. To Ealing. At 1 in the morning. Then I walk from the stop to my house. 10 minutes. Dark street. I hold my keys in my fist. I work 35 hours a week. After tax – about £1,400 a month. Sounds like money? Nah. Here's the breakdown. Rent for the room: £550 (bills included, no internet)�Council tax: £80 (split between us, but two don't pay)�Internet + phone: £50�Tube and night bus: £130�Food shopping: £220 (barely eat meat – too expensive)�Subscriptions: £0 (no Netflix, internet's shite anyway)�Clothes and shoes: £20 (charity shops)�Hygiene stuff: £25 (pads, moisturiser, deodorant – not a luxury)�Medicine: £15 (for headaches and to help me sleep)�Emergency buffer: £30 Leftover: about £280. £280 a month. That's £70 a week. That's a tenner a day. A tenner – one sandwich and a coffee. Or the fare to work. Not both. I've been on my own for two years now. Since me and Jake split. He was alright. Didn't hit me. Didn't shout. He just stopped noticing me. I became like a microwave – there, but you don't look at it. I left on my own. Been on my own ever since. Evenings I get home at 11:30pm. Or 1am if I did a late shift. Old house. Doors creak. Housemates – lads from a factory. They don't give a toss. They blast music at 2 in the morning.
