When you actually leave London, whether it’s for travel / work / life, you learn & think a few things that change your view of the Big Smoke forever. Your inner monologue goes a bit like this:
I used to travel more than half an hour to get to work? Like, every day? Five days a week? 30 hours a month? Whoa. That was stupid.
Holy shit – you can live almost anywhere in comparative luxury for the same price as a poky one bedroom studio in London. I thought that was fake news!
It’s actually really nice to know your neighbours’ names, say hello and invite each other round for drinks. We talk about this new thing called “the community”. It’s great!
Is this what clean air feels like? Oh my god. Every breath is like being reborn. My lungs love me.
There are actually tons of opportunities to work online and outside of the city. I best not tell anyone or I’ll lose my competitive edge. (That’s right – outside of London, I have an edge.)
Wow. Not feeling like I’m gonna get stabbed / shot / blown up on public transport is wonderful. And making eye contact with fellow passengers? Game-changer.
There aren’t as many bars / theatres / events that I can’t afford to go to. Now I have some spare cash to at least consider going and then saying no is way more satisfying.
Tourists are so annoying. Why can’t they go back to London, ffs?
Screw therapy! Away from city life, I feel 100x better, more focused and positive than ever before. It’s as if being closer to nature and further from unnecessary stress is good for you or something.
Ew, is that a Starbucks? Ok. Somebody start a petition against that crap Right Now.
There is more time and more money for the things that really matter to me. In fact, I’ve actually had a chance to work out what really matters to me, instead of just doing what everyone else does.
I can never, ever live in London again.
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