On the buses

This coming and going to and from London is really starting to get to me. And no, it's not Bessie's futon - which I am now finding remarkably comfortable despite the absence of extra cushioning (see "Floored", below) - it's just the endless up and down, up and down the M4. The Megabus is cheap and cheerful but a bit grim at times, and always full of students which is a bit irritating, and last week on the way down to Bristol the windscreen smashed and we had to sit in the freezing cold waiting for an hour and a half for a replacement bus to arrive (Mind you, yesterday on the way back up again we had a proper National-Express-style coach with comfy seats and air con and stuff so I mustn't grumble).
It is tiring, though, when you've worked solidly for four days, and made sparkling conversation with the people you're staying with, and then done a three-hour grim coach journey home again, and I always seem to end up bickering with Prince Charming as soon as I arrive because he expects me to be as fresh as he is after not being at work all week. But that's relationships for you I guess.
The worst bit, though, is that I really don't feel like I live in Bristol. It's really nice to see so much of my London friends when I'm staying with them, and they always make me feel very welcome, but I feel like a homeless sofa-surfer who visits Bristol at weekends rather than someone who's moved out of London to Bristol. And when I get there, PC is bored of hanging around the house and wants to do things like going to the Brecon Beacons, which we did on Friday and it was lovely but didn't much help me put down roots in BS5.
Still, after tomorrow I'm not coming to London for a week or two, so I can hang out and explore a bit. Also I have signed up for some interesting crafty-type day courses at Bristol Folk House in the interests of a) learning to crochet/make pots/write stories and b) making friends. On the latter note, PC and I went out dancin' on Saturday night, and did meet lots of nice people which buoyed our spirits considerably, although we'd chosen a hippy trance party as we knew it would be full of nice friendly types but forgot that of course they'd be almost exclusively in their early 20s so a bit young, possibly, to be lifelong pals. Still, we had some good chats.
All in all, I'm still having mixed feelings about the whole thing. I'm not regretting the move, but I didn't realise it was going to be so darn hard - and expensive: the Megabus is cheap, but when working out my projected income from days worked in London I forgot to factor in the incredible amount I end up spending on tube travel and food (my lovely friends are generous enough to let me stay at their houses and eat their dinners, but would probably draw the line at me helping myself to big fat sandwiches to take to work for lunch).
In fact freelancing is turning out to be a lot less fun that it was last time, partly because of the travel (which I guess is only temporary until I find some work in Bristol) but mainly because the company I've been working for is really, really slow at paying me and I am now massively overdrawn and in debt to PC, so on top of everything I've got massive money worries.
When I started this blog I wanted it to be like one of those downsizing columns in the Sunday supplements, but less smug - I didn't realise how easy that was going to be because right now I can't think of very much to be smug about. Who are these people who move out of London and have a brilliant time breezing around with super-friendly locals and some unspecified independent income?