The car is all packed up and it is time to go. First year I jumped in at the deep end (heading all the way to Cardiff to study before I even felt ready) and then spent the year doggy paddling and treading water. This year I’m going to step in to the deep end, keep my head above the water and swim.
Packing was an even bigger hassle than the first time ’round. If it’s possible, I think I’ve gotten even more unorganised. Most things are chucked in the car individually and if not they are in random boxes: There really is no method to the madness.
I’m so excited I can’t stay sitting down for longer than two seconds and I haven’t stopped smiling all morning and yet so scared that the butterflies in my stomach won’t rest either. I don’t feel like eating, but that could be something to do with the fact I went out out last night and had one too many shots of sours. Drinking and dancing the night away was the perfect way to say goodbye to Chelmsford and to all of my friends until Christmas, even if it has left me a little delicate today.
Anyway, sleep in the car should get rid of the bags under my eyes and lack of appetite shouldn’t be a problem for long: I have never successfully resisted purchasing food or coffee at a motorway services before now. I am sure by the time we stop for lunch I’ll be happy to eat as much as is Bronwenly possible.
Now, to stop using my blog as an excuse, shut the laptop, get in the car and choose the best song to start the journey with. In roughly four hours time I should be collecting my keys from the letting agency and heading into my new flat. Here goes.