How not to pack your room.

I've been trying desperately. Like how I had tried desperately to start studying for my exams 4 weeks ago. Its almost impossible.

After returning from the pub (the 2 x gin n tonic was really really necessary in order to calm my nerves after work..), I found myself cooking the remaining pasta/sauce i have, doing my laundry, watching malcolm in the middle, and well.. just general fluffing about. Room's an absolute tip, and theres just so much I could bring to Plymouth. And Mandy's coming down tmr to get the stuff I'm leaving at MnM's.

So its 2am. I don't usually stay up that late unless I'm already out (i.e getting drunk).

Lets see. 1 suitcase.. and probably 2 boxes. And nothing in it. I'm quite screwed huh.

Looking forward to the weekend.. going caaaving in Devon. How exciting is that.

I realised over the weekend (while perching precariously over an extremely narrow edge that drops precariously about 6 or 7 ms into the pitch dark) that I had no fear over falling. I trusted my jammers and descenders fully. Damn. I need the thrill of fear again. I need to look for something to feel fearful about. shite.

And work. Yes..

I detest my work. Cleaning, making coffee, doing the potwash.. dealing with idiots, saying the same thing over and over again and not mean it. It sucks so bad. Its the ultimate job for the brainless.

I hate it how my manager keeps trying to make it sound so important that everything must be spotless or perfect for some silly audit. I don't really care. I earn freaking minimum wage, and whether or not you get a larger bonus, really doesn't affect me. So for your extra bonus that u do whatever you do with it, its none of my business, don't drag my lazy ass into it.

Oh how I hate working subserviently.

Alot of times, i chant to myself at work; I hate this job I hate this job I hate this job.

Then sometimes.. you meet the oddball who's really nice, and you end up really happy having that 4 or 5 minute chat/banter while you prepared that oddball's cappucino/latte/mocha/frescato/machiatto/ristretto.

Then when i've got to clear the tables, or serve fucked up customers.. life rolls speedily down hill again.

Thats why I spend all my breaks listening to music and reading my book.. to pretend that i'm not at work. silly init?

How to pack your room.

Assume mindset: I am going for a 2.5 month holiday. What do I need?

Everything else: Into the box.

End of the day... I have freaking 1 suitcase, 2 boxes, 1 guitar, and 1 bag. i feel so bad. : ( how the hell did i end up with so much things in my 9 months here.

The first time in 9 months I actually feel I'm going to miss something.

Well obviously, 9 months ago I would have been bawling my eyes out over coming to this silly country.. Suddenly today, being faced with the prospect of not having to run away to Ingleton/Yorkshire/Derbyshire for the next 3 months made me realise that I was actually going to miss the Northwest.

I won't miss Manchester in particular.. other then the fact that it has been rather familliar to me. But I will surely miss the countryside up north here. : (

So the last weekend in Manchester was spent, well.. not in Manchester but again, up north, in Ingleton. A weekend burnt (literally) on silly caving, getting lost. : (

We tried to look for caves. but kept getting lost. A trip to Haig Gill.. and we ended up in Longstrom (1 mile away). Tried drive to Ireby, and ended up in Leck Fell (very far away). Tried looking for Illusion, and well... nearly got heatstroke and died. Didn't even finish all the pitches in Ireby. : (

But it was a good weekend overall.. fun and silly all at the same time. Another 3 more days of hard toiling work and i'm gone from manchester. Yay. : )