All over again.
Here I am again. Attempting this.
I’m fed up of feeling like I’ve failed. As I’ve always said, I want to make sure I have something to read when I’m old and shriveled and this maybe the only answer. Yes, regaling my eighty year self with my self depricating twenty two year old self is exactly what the doctor will prescribe, I’m sure.
Twenty two. Wow, time sure does fly. I remember doing this for the first time when I was seventeen. It’s been five whole years and here I am, sprawled out on the bed exactly like I was then, expect for the fact that this bed happens to be located in a country some five thousand miles away from the original bed. Yes, I now live in a beautiful little town called Winchester in the United Kingdom, a place that I couldn’t be more in love with it. And that’s not just because of the my daily staple of frozen pizzas that I buy for a pound. I am here, attempting to get my masters and to hopefully find a job that will help me pay off the exorbitant loan that is now the ever present, proverbial burden on my shoulders.
I feel horrible for not having started this page earlier. But then again, it is exactly like me to have the six most exciting months of my life go undocumented just because of the simple fact that I was too lazy to hit ‘Ctrl + T’ and start a new blog. Which really is a shame considering the massive load of ‘irrelevant nothings’ that I missed writing.
This time though, I hope to actually take this thing through.
For no one else but me.
Or rather, the eighty year old me.
Oh, and the cats.