I've been back in Leicester for a few days and it doesn't feel like I left at all. Christmas feels like a dream, and the few times that I saw my friends could just be memories from any other time I was around.
I got back Thursday, and I saw San on Thursday night as she was still unpacking. I'd missed her in the time that had passed since I saw her at New Year, even though her flat is cold (because the university to have heating that stays on if you want it on -- or even adjustable thermostats) it was good just to sleep beside her. Friday I had arranged to go to Derby to see my old Goth friend Owen, since I wanted to interview him about Urban Exploration for a feature I have to write. We also planned to explore a secret basement where he worked, and hoped to find a way into the city's catacombs.
It didn't work out exactly like that. Owen is working two jobs, and as luck would have it he ended up working both on Friday. I got some time to talk to him, and then called [Matt] to hang out with while Owen worked that night. Owen found us in a bar when he finished work early, but I should have remembered how Owen seems to dislike social settings like that (which is probably a major reason why he doesnt seem to carry his wallet half the time, that and he's just cheap) and he was antsy to go exploring.
And because we went exploring after several pints of beer is why I have a cut on my head, and on my hands, and feel bruises all over my chest and back. We thought we found an entrance to the catacombs, it's hard to explain why and where it was -- but basically it was a tunnel that had been bricked up. Fortunately, Owen spotted a hole and proceeded to climb inside of it. He convinced me to try and after I insisted I couldn't get in and he enlarged the hole, he did get me to climb -- head first, into complete darkness -- into the hole. He said he would catch me, which to his credit, he did. He didn't, however, give any thought to a safe place to stand -- so he fell over, and dropped me on my head.
The tunnel wasn't a way into the catacombs at all, but instead seemed to be an abandoned garage unit -- or else, a dumping ground for old cars and car parts. It was very dull. And the other end was sealed with a sheet of corrugated metal, which was only half closed, which meant we could just walk out.
I ended up sleeping on Matt's couch because Owen claimed his girlfriend was waiting up for him and she was going to be mad at him for going out. Owen has always made her out to be -- in his words from Friday -- a sociopath and a misanthropist. She has apparently an irrational hatred of him spending time with anyone else or going out, but always has seemed friendly and normal to anyone who meets her. Most likely they both have their issues, and we aready knew that Owen is a compulsive liar. I think he just didn't want me to sleep on his couch, so it's just as well that Matt had no problem with it after I woke him up at 3 am. He even cooked us breakfast.
The rest of the weekend was quiet. San and I have decided that even though we have been together for ages we will start doing date-like things, for the fun of it. So I ask her out, and she accepts, and I pick her up and take her out somewhere. So that was Saturday night. Sunday I cooked breakfast, we watched tv, then went shopping because I needed more smart clothes for this week.
And that brings us right up to date, because this week I am working for Leicester News Service -- a news agency, basically. After one day it has restored my faith in journalism. I may hate my course, but I could handle a job in journalism -- and possibly in particular a job for a news agency.
And no, it had nothing to do with the hottie who graduated off my course last year and works there.
No comments:
Post a Comment