Life in Sheffield... six months on

Star Reporter Molly Lynch
Star Reporter Molly Lynch
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THIS week marks six months since I abandoned my small home town of Barrow-in-Furness (Google it) for the bright lights of the Steel City.

Swapping the big bedroom in my parents’ house, disposable income and home comforts for an independent life in my bachelorette pad was a bold move. I suddenly found myself in a land where beds really don’t make themselves and washing the pots in hot water can mean having to endure a cold shower.

With September in full swing, I imagine there are many young students in the position I found myself in not so long ago. And I see enough fellow young career girls rooting around the REDUCED section at Waitrose to know that I am not the only small-town spinster finding her way in this fair city.

Juggling an independent lifestyle with work or studying can be daunting, therefore as someone (probably) older and (not much) wiser I have a few pearls of wisdom which I shall impart. I call it the Single Girls’ Guide to Living in Sheffield:

At any one time, there are an average of 2.5 festivals taking place in Sheffield.

A barista is not a dyslexic member of the legal profession.

Lots of bars in Sheffield have extensive cocktails menus. In my hometown, I was once offered a gala apple when I asked for fruit with my Pimms and lemonade, thus this has proved overwhelming. Take it from me - be careful when feigning sophistication in choice of tipple. If a cocktail’s ingredients sound like those found in a bottle of shampoo, it’ll probably taste like it too.

Feeling lonely? Make friends with household appliances. If Tom Hanks could have a ball named Wilson on a desert island, you can have a vacuum cleaner called Claude in Ecclesall Road.

Crystal Peaks is not as magical as it sounds.

When your dad replied to your pleas to put the heating on with the words ‘move about a bit’, he had good reason. Keeping warm costs money.

Fed up of washing pots? Packaged food eaten over the sink can save time and energy. Might want to close your curtains first, though.

No, an afternoon in Meadowhall has not impaired your vision. You’re in Hollister. The dim lighting is designed to obscure ugly shoppers like yourself from the view of the ridiculously good-looking staff.

You were fed lies whilst watching Neighbours. City flat buildings are more Strangeways than Ramsay Street. The tittle-tattle with residents of the apartment next door while watering your potted plants was pure fantasy. Particularly if, like me, you’re capable of killing a bunch of flowers within a day.

Don’t swear allegiance to Sheffield United or Wednesday unless you’re truly committed to the cause. If questioned, just mutter something about how much you hate Leeds United and you won’t go far wrong.

Nine times out of 10, that important-looking man in pinstripes glued to his mobile who you move out of the way for in the street, assuming he’s saving the world, is probably playing Temple Run.