Caroline discovers that boys just wanna have fun

There are a lot of excuses to move to London in your early twenties. In my opinion, there are very few reasons not to move to London in your early twenties.

One of the most common justifying excuses however, is that your hometown just doesn’t “move fast enough” to keep up with the likes of you, you wild magnificent thing. Since the day you turned seventeen, you’ve been hanging out the window of your best friend’s bedroom, having a sneaky fag and telling them you are just TOO BIG for this BULLSHIT town.

When you finally do get 'round to moving to your Big City of choice (in my case, London) you’re delighted to find that it’s just the cornucopia of fast-paced living that you always dreamed it would be. Someone pulls a knife on you in Argos. People throw themselves under trains every day, and you throw a tantrum because it means you’re going to be late.

For the first time in your life, you’re not bored. The thing is, you kind of miss being bored. Once, you could spend hours lying upside down on your best friend’s bed, asking her how often she washes her bra. Now, there simply isn’t time for those kind of exchanges. If you’re spending all day lying upside down on someone’s bed, it damn well better be part of some kind of abstract performance piece, that ends in a monologue about the patriarchy’s control of your vagina.

There are no long lunches with The Girls. Because there are no The Girls.

We’re the post-When Harry Met Sally generation. We no longer ask “Can men and women be friends?” because we know for a fact that they can be. Look, look, LOOK, we can be, just look how good we are at it. Not only that, but most city-dwelling women have discovered that male friends are simply more convenient.

Female friendships are wonderful. They are friendships with lunch and dinner and a bottle of wine each. Texts asking how your interview went. Conversations about how nobody washes their bra often enough. But by God, do they have the potential to be exhausting. When you live in a city that constantly dangles the carrot of success in front of you on the condition you just give a little more of yourself, you come to a strange realisation: female friendships require time that you just don’t have.