I quit my job.
Packed my bags.
Flew to London.
It was sudden.
One weekend, I didn’t know what to do to manage time properly and get everything done.
The next weekend, I was sitting halfway around the world in a new home- my home- that had two cups, two plates, one fork and three spoons. No, wait…. that’s a spoon-type-thing. I’m not sure what it is. Its too disfigured to see what it was originally. Specially after it was left in the microwave in one of those two plates. We’re grateful the plate survived.
Welcome to home.
Welcome to real life.
Welcome (back) to have-nothing-to-do-and-am-depressed crying sessions… and then seeing the bright side of things and going on marathon cooking sessions….revelling in the freedom of having no constraints on my time.
Welcome to the freedom of staying out as late as you please.
Of doing insane things like going to the 24-hour ASDA to get tea bags at one at night because there were none in the house.
Welcome to London. Welcome to home. Welcome to real life.
I’m lovin’ it.