Home Sweet... Something.

[thelibraniniquity]

So, here I am. I'm in Bishopstone, sat on the sofa in the living room. There's a cat sprawled out alongside my left leg, and I've had my first "proper" home cooked meal in something like two months.

Slept in again this morning, despite getting to bed at 1am instead of closer to 4 or 5. Which meant that I only ended up with a couple of hours to shower, dress and pack in order to catch the 1:23pm train from Stoke Station. Didn't get the laundry done that I wanted to do, didn't have time to fiddle with the holdall's capacity to figure out exactly what I could and couldn't bring back with me.

I left my rugby jumper behind :(

Holdall was so f uckin' HEAVY, add that to my green satchelly type bag and I barely made it to the bus stop in one piece. Made it to the station with about 10, 15 minutes to space (which beats the easy hour I sat there about this time last year). Got on the train and no bloody seats left. Spent two hours on my arse in the little end section of the carriage where the doors are, and because of some "police incident" further down the train (which added 20 minutes to the journey) we made it to Watford Junction with almost zero minutes to spare for my connection; lugged the holdall onto the 2nd train and about 30 seconds later the doors closed and we started moving.

Another two hour journey, spent half of it standing up.

Blah blah, got to Seaford, got home.

I've since found out no, we're not moving next week, which means two things.
1. I'm sharing a bedroom with Katy until January.
2. Dad's driving me back up to Stoke in January.

I'm tired, I ache still and I'm right back where I was last summer, except last summer actually had the benefit of me not sharing the sofa bed or living room with anyone.

Laura's right. Christmas is so overrated.

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[thelibraniniquity]

*grins*