It's been a busy few days, considering that a week ago I was relying on regular doses of painkillers to keep me sane while the flu raged through me.
Friday the parents came here and so me and San went home with them. As ever, it was a strange feeling being at home -- strangest because my parents have gone on a crazed redecorating trip and just seem to be plastering and painting everything. So Friday was spent in classes, then in traffic on the way home. Friday night was feeling weird being back and talking to the cat.
Then Saturday night San and I were going to a gig in central London, so decided to head into the city earlier in the day and catch a movie, like old times. And again it was weird, precisely because it was like old times -- and I wished we were back in our jobs and back at home, rather than broke and in Leicester. Not least because neither of us is happy with where we are right now.
San's Mum was on holiday while her sister is at university herself now, so we went back to her empty flat in the time between the movie and the gig. Of course we behaved ourselves, and I guess San felt much the same way I did being home -- suddenly lost, and desperate for someone to say that she didn't have to leave again.
Saturday night was the gig, Laika Dog, who are extremely good but it's anyone's guess if they will amount to anything. We watched, we cheered and applauded from a short distance in front of the stage, then we went home again -- only to come back to Leicester on Sunday.
And now it's Monday and I don't want to be here any more. I'm hungry and I'm completely broke. I am failing my shorthand class so badly it would be funny if it wasn't for the fact that I have to be writing at something like 110 words per minute by June, and over 50 by this Christmas -- considering that now I am probably writing quicker in longhand.
Why did I think that going back to school was ever a good idea? I am having real problems keeping my head straight right now, and I know that this is the cause of it all.
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