Onward and upward?

I've now been living and working in Oxford for a week and a half and it's getting better, I think. I still haven't figured out what people do about lunch, although everyone keeps telling me to take a lunch hour. Then asks me to do eight things which I strongly suspect need doing IMMEDIATELY. So I'm too scared to actually bugger off for an hour when I know there's masses to do.

At least twice I think I have genuinely impressed my bosses. But I suspect I may have irritated them beyond belief through not knowing what they were talking about a few more times. I have interviewed a movie star (no, you probably haven't heard of him, google Toby Jones) and his mum, a really quite famous Oxford author and been shown around a £500 a night suite which has previously housed Michael Douglas, Bill Clinton and Pierce Brosnan. I have also been issued with a company bike (with the name of my employer emblazoned on the side) and been asked to cycle up and down the canal towpath. Twice. The fact that I haven't had a chance to sign up to a gym yet is more than made up for by me walking 45 minutes to and from work most days. Plus, obviously, the towpath cycling.

So yeah, the work is getting less scary and confusing (helped by the fact that the bods in the canteen are well nice and bacon sarnies are only £1). But the other big change is that, for now, I'm living in a houseshare for the first time since uni. I've lived either on my own or with my fiance (still not used to that phrase) for about 4 1/2 years.

I have had..mixed... experiences of houseshares. On the one hand, I met HF through a house share when we were at uni together (another story and one I probably shouldn't tell under the watchful eyes of me mum). But the last time I shared a house with a bunch of girls, I ended up getting ketchup in my bed. It's true - girls are very bitchy. And often strangely protective about selected crockery.

This time, I'm staying with my friend E, her two girl housemates and an often absent archaeologist, whose room I sleep in when he's not there. And actually, so far it's been really good fun. There are no protests when I want to watch Desperate Housewives. Me and E are sharing cooking and shopping together (which me and HF do ostensibly, but really, he's more of a helper than an actual cook). There are often nice smells when I come home - I returned home one day to find E cooking a delicious pie. And so far, very little overlap in the bathroom, which was my biggest fear. They have the broadband, so I can use their laptops for the interweb. There are more tampons in the house than you can shake a stick at. E makes cakes. And I can live wild crazy lives with new men vicariously through them and suck up the salacious gossip. Actually, there's not been too much of that yet, I'm trying to find some hot men at work for them but the hottest man so far was very obviously married. Pity.

It's more like I always used to think living in a big house together would be before I experienced it at university. Even if K says I have whore-pants.

Maybe going back to coupledom is going to be the difficult thing? Mind you, with prices round here what they are, there's no immediate danger of that.

Good advice I've been given this week - don't cycle into the river.

Damn, that was my plan!