The struggles you only understand if you live in Lewes Court

Whether the name conjures up tender feelings of Dominos by fairy lights, or simply debating the lengths of your sanity with the Circuit app Launderette; it seems that everyone has an opinion on the off-brand Northfield known to the masses as Lewes Court.

Having lived there for a little over a term now, I consider myself to be somewhat an expert (or survivor) on the day to day goings on of the accommodation.

So with that being said, here are just a few struggles of what its like to live in a world where having a front door that locks is considered a sacred luxury- or at least the world according to my flat:

The kitchen is dodgy at best

True to its nature, the toaster appears to be added in purely for homely decoration, as most of time it alternates between serving hot blackened charcoal and Kingsmill a la raw. Either way it's a no go from me, and if I were you I'd seriously consider adopting a low carb diet.

As for the fridge, I've witnessed first hand all my juices turn to drinkable ice and my food shrivel up from the cold, either I've pissed off Frozone in a previous life or something is seriously wrong with my shelf-slanted appliance. Still, at least I can make a few extra quid flogging slushies in the summer amirite?

You say health code violation, I see a grassroots slushy business.

Where art thou porter?

The man, the myth and the legend on the eternal 5 minute break – the porter is someone that has be seen to be believed. Rumour has it when the office is closed during the aforementioned break(s), he can still be heard munching on a £3 meal-deal from Co-op, and conjuring up new reasons to say "Sorry, come back tomorrow".

But at the end of the day he's the guy that we all love to hate, and Lewes Court just wouldn't be the same without him.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions and sticky notes.

The passive aggressive flatmates

In week 1 they were the bubbliest thing on two legs, and could always be counted to go halves on a cheeky Chinese Takeaway. But as the term drags on and the mid study convos become "passive" aggressive messages in the flat group chat, you start to plan your exits around when they're in lectures.

And just when you think they've had a change of heart, they'll move out. Still we'll always have the memories…unfortunately.

If you're lucky enough to have your own bathroom it most likely resembles a human sized cage

Consequently forcing you to invent a kind of new wave yoga in order to give yourself the most basic of washes. And if you happen to be showering during peak hours, your bathroom basically becomes a game of temperature roulette, where the last body part left standing wins the pleasure of calling itself clean.

Whoever said good things come in small packages clearly lived in Swanborough.

The colour scheme of basically everything

I mean, while I'm certainly no Leonardo Da Vinci and frankly barely made it past sketching flowers in Art GCSE, I'm certainly not one to talk. But when both the carpet, general furniture and ugly patterned curtains begins to resemble a red room in a cheesy 80's sitcom, perhaps it's time to spend of some of that £27k per student on a fresh coat of paint ?

Finally, the communal "living area" will end up resembling a dentist's waiting room. No, LITERALLY.

If Eastbourne is known to the masses at God's waiting room, then it clearly got it's inspiration from my living area since that's where colour goes to die.

Why does the furniture look like the final project of a 2:2 engineering student? Why do all the pinboards display fire escape tips like I'm not treated to the live version every other morning?

And how am I expected to Netflix and Chill on chairs that are older than Adam Tickell himself? When oh when will the awkwardly spaced chairs end?

CHILLING.

But in the interest of spreading a bit more positivity, here are 3 things that make life at Lewes Court actually worth living in:

1. Red dentist chairs aside, the fact that we get a living room and open space kitchen is a seriously underrated luxury, especially since it means we always have a place to bring people over to when our rooms resemble a bomb-site (which is pretty much always).

2. We have direct access to all the best bus stops on campus, so never has being pissed on the N25 night bus been more worth it.

And 3. You become very familiar with all your neighbours during every "routine" fire alarm and end up bonding over your shared love of sanity and undisturbed sleep.

Lewes Court – what more could you ask for?