Sheffield Travel Blog› entry 1 of 115 › view all entries
As of today Iâ€™ve got two weeks to get my sorry backside into gear and sort out
pretty much everything for going away. I finished work last Friday; a strange
feeling after three and a half years of seeing the same people for 7 hours a day.
We went out after work - it went a bit like this:
I roared like a lion on the way out of the office. I drank. I ate noodles. I spilled noodle juice on my shirt. I drank some more. I argued over a pool table with a big fat hairy student. I lost the argument. I drank more. I walked nose-first into the plate glass door of a bar. I spent 20 seconds stunned â€“ kind of like when a bird hits a window at full pelt. I drank more to recover. I walked home from town. I stopped at a petrol station. I bought and ate 3 Pepperamis (extra spicy). I got home and went to bed. I rampaged downstairs at , convinced someone was breaking in. They werenâ€™t. It was just Andy, my housemate. I stomped back up to bed.
My nose is still bruised and sore; although the Doctor in A&E this morning didn't think it was broken. I told him how Iâ€™d done it and I could see he thought I was wasting his time. I felt like an adolescent drunken waste of space. Iâ€™d put it down as an automatic response to the disapproval of an authority figure â€“ but the doctor wasnâ€™t much older than me. And he looked like Louis Theroux. So it was probably just straightforward â€˜should know better at my ageâ€™ embarrassment.
Nevertheless, putting all that aside, here are a few facts:
I'm leaving Sheffield, my home for most of the last 10 years, probably for good
I don't have to go to work again for over a year
I'm going to miss my family, friends and all other things English
Iâ€™m going to see some strange and wonderful things
Iâ€™m going to be in
None of these facts yet seem real.
But they will.