I have an acute migraine whilst sat on a Virgin train home to “WIGUN NUERTH WESHTERN” (sound it out to get embrace the Northerness) and it feels like a fat boy banging his oversized fists against the fragile window of a closed bakery shop.
It is SO GOOD to see so much greenery out of the window right now as opposed to being visually numbed to the sight of grey concrete day in and day out. It brings to mind a New York Times architecture special that concluded on the note humans aren’t designed to live in ‘concrete jungles’ but creative buildings can mitigate the negatives.
Being home for my birthday is going to be so much fun seeing as I spend practically all of my time in London and contact with my family has shifted to being phone-based. I can’t believe I’m going to turn 20, a fifth of a century old…tomorrow! The very thought of it makes me slump into any seat I’m sat in (provided I don’t get more stuck as I slump further and further into it) and as I like to pronounce to everyone during any discussion of age and birthdays, I was always quite happy to be 17; doing my A-Levels, commuting to school, going to the Starbucks in St James Square, Manchester armed with Discrete Mathematics homework and Economics papers on the then housing boom. Just thinking about this brings back very fond memories, the sorts of memories that make for good anecdotes to float around in dinner conversations or just sentimental statements. I think I’ve pulverised Annabel a pulp with the amount I’ve subjected her to these 2 years.
What I need to do when home is to recharge my batteries and let the country wind air out my lungs; I feel as if I’ve been lugging about 2 packs of stale Hovis bread in my chest!
But I’m already excited and looking forwards to seeing ‘everyone’ on Friday. Luck doesn’t even mark the spot when I think about how I got to know all my dearest friends. Let’s hope hitting 20 is the best year of my life yet.
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