From the South whence thousands travel daily

So, after hours on the bus, and getting my feet tangled in my wheelie case maybe seven different times whilst negotiating the pavements of Oxford, I finally made it home yesterday. It was maybe the combination of very good Trinity food the night before, plus great Chinese for lunch (and the cinnamon Danish for breakfast), but I felt distinctly queasy as the bus pulled away from Cambridge. This, however, passed, and I was free to focus my attention on the other passengers. Of particular note was ADHD boy – must have been in his late teens, and seemed to think that the greatest fun in life was to be gained from turning the little light switch above his seat on, then off, then on again. Then off again. Then holding it down so it flickered. Then on again. Then off. And on again really quickly. All the while listening to absurdly loud music on his iPod. He was fun.

After a brief moment at home to catch up with the housemates, I went to the pub to meet S and R for a pre-holiday pint (or scotch, in my case). I think I was very irritating, but too tired to really notice at the time. Ah well – rushed off quite quickly to return to the housemates, eat (more) Chinese and drink gin. F left this morning, which leaves me slightly desolated, but somehow I shall survive. The way I’m feeling, probably by going back to bed. Though not until I've eaten all the expensive chocolates I brought back from Cambridge for breakfast. Classy, me.