I’m moving so slowly today that I’d go faster if I were underwater. I feel like I’ve been beaten up. Swollen arms, throbbing veins jumping about like electric wires, and bruises the colour of the Ecuadorian Quichua Flag are so this season dahhhling.
Soon my mother will be home to drive me back to Edinburgh, to my faithful little apartment where I shall be forced to throw tonnes of my much-loved clothes in the bin (“I can’t throw it out!” “You never wear it!” “I wore it once!” “Throw it out.”), and carry all my belongings down three flights of old winding stairs in order to make a start on ‘moving out’.
It’s incredible the amount of crap one accumulates over a single year.
Hi Ho Hi Ho It’s off to work we go!