Here is the latest in our series of blogs by Glasgow students.

Phoebe Inglis-Holmes is an honours year multimedia journalism student, aspiring radio presenter, music festival obsessive and green tea connoisseur.

I’ve never lived alone. I lived with my lovely mother until I was 17, when I left home and adventuring out into the big, bad and mouldy world of university halls.

I wasn’t built for halls, living with strangers and seeing their maggoty christmas dinner remains in the oven come january, so I ended up basically living in my friends much nicer flat. We then moved in together in my second year; by the end of that year I was living with my boyfriend. All this meant is that I’ve had a short series of kind, sweet and long-suffering house elves who have dealt with my tendency to leave my clothes strewn across all surface areas and never, ever cook the dinner. (When it runs a serious health hazard, why would I make anyone take that risk? That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.)

So when my boyfriend announced that his band were going on tour for 35 days, I somewhat panicked. Who would do the dishes?! Who would cook my tea!? Surely I wasn’t going to be left alone, to starve? How dare he go! Soon I settled down, putting my zen head on. I wouldn't die. I’d just learn to cook, to clean, become a model housewife with a tidy house and tidy life and not live on ready meals, stir fry and digestive biscuits dipped in peanut butter, as happens when alone for the occasional weekend.

And actually, so far I’ve embraced the challenge. The bedroom needs hoovered? Ain’t nobody gonna hoover it but me. I want a cup of tea? I’m a strong, independent woman who makes her own brews. After depending on other people to support my hectic schedule for so long, this has forced me to find some peace in the little quiet moments. I’ve even set myself some new challenges; to write a blog post every day for the month my lad is away, as well as get good at twirling my ever growing number of circus toys to impress him when he returns.

I may not be super-cleaner extrordinare, managing to balance other commitments and perfect house all together, but I’ve realised - maybe ever for the first time - that I do actually have the power, strength and sanity within me to keep all the balls juggling, alone. Even if it does mean occasionally wearing incredibly un-ironed trousers to get the milk at tesco.