Man am I psyched to go home. My dad’s overnighting in Swindon so that he can get here early to pick me up. I figure I owe him a beer for that. Don’t misunderstand it’s not a hatred of Newport and things Newportian that’s got me gegging to escape so badly. 3 months without seeing my family is the most obvious reason but there’s also the fact that I’m going back for just the right amount of time; 18 days. I won’t start to hate being home but I will miss Newport, which is good, it means I’ll be all the more happy when I come back. I’m not sure if that makes any sense in type, but I understand what I mean anyway.
I’m pretty sure I’ll be let go from Halford’s when I get back too. Not sure how I feel about that to be honest, I hate that job, having to put up with condescending superiors and constantly getting the third degree because I didn’t sell twelve helmets with any given bike is fairly soul destroying. I’m pretty much on the rope because I don’t scam people as much as I should. So yeah my stress level will definitely drop to some degree once I’m gone, but I’m dissapointed that I didn’t enjoy the work more, that it wasn’t easier to put up with the bullshit, on paper it’s an ideal job for me.
Ah well, at least I’ll have the Red Bitch with me when I return. That would be my bike, cycling is another thing I haven’t done in 3 months and I miss it almost as much as my family, worryingly. So yeah, that’s about it. See ya in 2011 Newport, don’t dangle any more 16 year old babes in front of me next year yeah? :P
This place creaks like a motherfucker at night. No idea how I didn’t notice before. Sat in the living room watching Adventureland, considering just staying up all night watching films. It’s weird being here alone…