In August 2024, I achieved a significant milestone: securing my “dream job” at a prestigious business school in London. Elation quickly set in, though tempered by the realization that this new chapter would bring substantial challenges. I had been enjoying a high standard of living in Birmingham with minimal costs—a balance that simply doesn’t exist in London.
Leaving Birmingham Behind
It was clear that my time in Birmingham had ended, and I had to navigate the transition as best I could. The biggest decision was where and how to live: should I buy, rent on my own, or house-share temporarily? Buying was the only viable long-term plan, but it required research, preparation, and finding the right property. Renting solo was, as many know, outrageously expensive. Then there was the rental market itself: fast-paced, confusing, and opaque.
The frustrating reality of London rentals:
- Call about a listing days after it’s posted? “It’s already gone.”
- Call immediately? “We’re taking names; we’ll get back to you.” Spoiler: They never do.
Eventually, I decided that renting alone was more demoralizing than house-sharing. Sharing promised lower costs and less bureaucracy—if I could avoid the risk of nightmare housemates.
Welcome to Hell House!
Unfortunately, I didn’t dodge that bullet. The house was a mixed bag of personalities: two normal, decent housemates, and three who made life a nightmare. Let me introduce the key players:
- Dog Shit Guy
Aptly named, he let his dog defecate everywhere and never cleaned up. While not malicious, he had given up on life, living in a perpetual state of apathy. - Young & Dumb
A young man unequipped for adulthood, his immaturity manifested in messiness and neglect. While others blamed him for the house’s dismal state, he seemed oblivious to the concept of shared responsibility. - Mad Rhi
The crown jewel of chaos, Rhi was a loud, domineering woman with anger issues and a complete disregard for others. Having lived in the house for six years, she seemed to embody its dysfunction. Her tantrums and vendettas made even basic coexistence impossible.
Attempts to address the chaos with Hapless Rick, the landlord, went nowhere. A friend of Rhi’s, he dismissed any complaints about her behavior. When I stood my ground, he made it clear that I was the problem and asked me to leave.
Realizing the Blessing in Disguise
It was clear I had stumbled into a no-win situation. The house was a battleground with no accountability and no escape from the dysfunction. Instead of wallowing in frustration, I focused on finding a permanent solution.
I decided to move out within weeks, and by mid-September, I had an offer accepted on a house. By the New Year, I was settled into my new home—a beautiful, five-bedroom property that costs only £40 more per day than the nightmare of sharing Hell House.
A Grateful Goodbye
Looking back, I realize that Hell House, Mad Rhi, and the rest of the cast pushed me to act decisively. What felt like a miserable ordeal at the time became the catalyst for securing a better future.
So to Mad Rhi, Hapless Rick, Dog Shit Guy, and Young & Dumb: thank you – your chaos helped me find my clarity.
I write this from the comfort of my own space, with no slobs, no tantrums, and no landlord to contend with. Every pound spent on this house feels like an investment in peace of mind, and for that, I am profoundly grateful.
p.s., Whilst Hell House lived up to its name I made my own corner of it very nice. See the pictures below.
Dr Martin James 