Packing Up

Have been driving around like a fool for the past 3 days trying to collect everything and move all my stuff back from Sheffield.

Despite the length of the impending trip, I'm really not that nervous. It's weird because I thought I would be, but it's just not happened yet. The overriding memories of the last, hectic week will be the drunken hilarity of the fancy dress leaving do, the amount of cash I've splashed around to make sure I've got everything and all the goodbyes I've said. The goodbye thing has been the most difficult part so far - but it still doesn't seem real; I don't think any of this will until the plane takes off from Heathrow tomorrow.    

I've sold my little Ford KA for 500 pounds yesterday. Let's face it, it was no Ferrari, but I was quite attached to it nonetheless - it served me pretty well for three and a half years. A 20 year old girl bought it as her first car, she seemed very excited by the prospect of having her own motor. So I guess we both get what we want now - freedom comes in a lot of different guises.  

So, in less than 24 hours I'll be off like that piece of beef that Andy left on the side in the kitchen for 4 days. Anyway, must go, the packing is waiting, I've got rucksacks to fill. The next time I write it'll be from somewhere a little more exotic than Rochdale...