AHH!

Work just rang me there asking if I'd like to do a few extra hours this evening. My reply: "Sorry, I can't tonight I'm afraid."

Do I have plans? No. Do I have something important to do? No. So why not go make some money, I hear you ask? Because I'm busy having a total spaz attack, that's why.

Guyyyys? Did any of you completely freak out before ye left for London/Madrid/Argentina/California? Because I am. It dawned on me the other day that I'm leaving on the 5th of September. THE FIFTH. I didn't think I was leaving till like, the 15th. I know that's not much of a difference but it made it seem further away in my head. So now I'm completely terrified.

Unlike the others, I've never really been away from home for more than 3 weeks at a time. This is huge. I'll probably be curled up in my 10x10ft room every night for the first month, balling my eyes out, scoffing pain au chocolat and...different types of cheese, singing "my bonny lies over the ocean" or something.

:( 

Plus our university is the only one that hasn't contacted their students about accommodation or any of the other IMPORTANT things one might need to know before LEAVING THE COUNTRY FOREVER*. Believe me, I'm the most disorganised person on the planet but when it comes to stuff like this, I need to know every tiny detail well in advance so that I don't freak out. (which is what is happening now)

There have been a mélange of emotions experienced...I drew very intricate, lifelike pictures of them for you. I don't know why I always draw myself like a Lego woman.

Stage one: worry

Stage two: PANIC!

Stage three: sad

I'm going to go listen to Take That's latest to cheer myself up.

Tomorrow I will feel silly for venting on our beautiful blog and I will delete this. Until then, apologies to anyone who reads this.

Bye, M

*9 months, but still.