I’ve finally figured out the worst thing about living alone. It’s not the lack of company (I’m pretty great, thus living with me is likewise) but there are certain practical implications to a flat with one occupant. The most critical of which is this:

On a night such as tonight, when my dinner is simmering happily on the stove, I realise that I possess no pasta, or bread. Both of which are essential for consuming the rather gorgeous tuna ragù I’ve spent the past hour preparing (of course this is not what it is, since a ragù is a meat sauce… but whatever).

Given a flatmate I could leave, pop to the shop, buy some bread. Without one, I am trapped.

This is not ideal at all.