For the first time since starting college, I miss home. Which is good, I suppose: I thought it would happen sooner. This is Week 6 and I really miss home. I miss my mother. I miss my bed. I miss dinners. I miss watching True Movies with Mammy. I miss winding her up. I miss winding Tommy up. I miss going to the shop. I miss being allowed to stay indoors all day. I sort of miss school. The familiarity. It was easy. All you had to do was a bit of homework every now and again and you’d be fine. Now QCA is important (and I’m not even sure what that is). I miss getting a hug from my mother when I felt sad. Having a cry. I am the youngest in my family and I’m used to being treated as such. I miss having hugs when I feel sad. And the weekend goes too fast.
I may go to the cinema on Friday (and that will be lovely). I will see my lovely Hazel on Saturday. I will pack my bags on Sunday and commence another college week. It’s hopeless. Where’s the time for anything? Where’s the time for hanging around the house with Mutti and reading for pleasure and using my time wisely by doing essays? There is no time. And it is so hard to prioritise.
I would like a hug now, please. Get in my bed and hold me ‘til I fall asleep. I’ll cry but it’s okay. I just want to feel held. As though someone else’s arms is the only thing holding me together. Because it probably is.
I’ve eaten lots of food today in an effort to avoid college work and, I don’t know, life. We’re talking custard, we’re talking pasta, we’re talking umpteen slices of Aldi ham. What is wrong with me? Lately I have been reminded that I attract the weirdos. It is unsurprising really, considering my diet. And the fact that I am insane.
It is late. I am rambling. Life is weird. I want to go home.