It's bank holiday Monday. As I am incapable of saying NO to my manager, I found myself working the 9-13:30 shift. Wages are time and a half, but on a shift like that, sometimes it doesn't seem worth it.
(Could customers note that patience is a WONDERFUL virtue and if you all decide to go shopping on a BANK HOLIDAY you should expect to wait a little while.)
Leave work feeling proud of myself that I didn't have a meltdown.
Go back to the house. Pack.
Go to the yard where they are having a BBQ. After discovering that Mum has discovered someone else's cider, I work my way through her pack of Budweiser.
Laugh. A lot. Not all drink induced.
Smile. Knowing that my family and friends are always there.
Panic. Realising that I might miss my train.
Get on the train. Head to Reading. Try to revise.
Give up. Start Snapchatting everyone.
Fail at taking a photo of my music.
Try again with the photo. Listen to Taylor Swift. Singing out loud? Possibly.
Deal with delays on the Circle line.
Receive texts from EVERYONE asking if I was there yet. Phone duplicates messages. Miss a train after being in a drunken laughing fit.
Get to Reading. Get a taxi; brand new Mercedes E Class. Pretend I am being chauffeured. Like Kate Middleton. But blonde and not pregnant.
Meet my friend Alex. Camp on his floor overnight as I was meant to be staying with the EX and due to Bank Holidays, the uni hotel wasn't replying to emails.
Sleep.
Losing him was blue like I'd never known,
Missing him was dark grey all alone.
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