the end

By way of an introduction: If you’re reading this there is a good chance you know me, and you’ll know why all this is up here. If you don’t now me then, well, suffice to say I’ve just moved away from my adopted town and thought it would be nice to keep my friends informed of what I’m up to, though what will follow from this I know as little about as you do. But the plan is to travel about for a bit, find some action, eventually come back and decide what I want to do next. As vague as that sounds, thats what’s up.
So, In the early hours of last Saturday morning I moved out of Southampton forever. At 10 Gino the unlicensed taxi driver came round with his trailer and we loaded all my possessions from their temporary homes in Matt & Danny’s Kimber Halls rooms, Ed’s spare room and Gwen’s studio on Derby Road and dumped them all in a lockable cupboard at SafeStore. With that over and done with, and finding myself officially with no fixed abode I caught the first train back to my Mum’s house in Worcester, stopping only at the halls to pick up my bag and write ‘bye’ on the grillplate with sugar.
I was lucky enough to catch a Virgin Voyager Train Of The Future, with free papers, expensive cappuccinos, a plug to charge your phone, many flashy displays, a headphone socket with 3 of the trains own radio stations provided, airplane toilets, a ‘train manager’ and best of all little notes on every one of the many many empty seats informing you that they were reserved, with a £50 fine for anyone sitting in the wrong place. I wasn’t in a hurry so I didn’t mind the train breaking down 3 times and finally being abandoned in Reading station. Thankfully a train to Worcester was along quickly, only a Thames one which although not having a radio station made up for it by telling me by means of flashing lights ‘No Smoking Please In The Vestibules’.
Worcester was Worcester, nothing to report there, except that my throat was starting to get sore as. Watched TV with the family and went to bed early. Then on Sunday I went with my sister, my dad and my stepmother to the open day of the house where I grew up. The only word for the experience is weird – meeting friends from when I was 10, lots of people telling me I’ve grown and indicating a level around the height of their stomach, though I must have stopped growing a good 6 years back. Scariest of all adults turning out to be people I remember only as toddlers. Revisiting your early childhood is strange enough for most people I imagine, but having the whole experience take place in a victorian mansion while your head spins from the delirium of approaching illness gives it a really trippy edge. Afterwards my dad drove me and my sister back to my mum’s house and we watched some new drama thing on TV, which was pretty good.
Monday morning I went to the Doctors first thing and found I had Tonsillitis and had to lie down and take penicillin for a few days so I spent the day lying on the sofa watching random videos of mid 90’s comedy I found in my room. The last episode of Six Feet Under was very good too but I really have to get my shit together if I’ve got any chance of leaving by the start of next week. But I’ll try and keep this updated if anything remotely interesting happens. Today I’ve got a ‘to do’ list of epic proportions, against doctors’ (well, “nurse practitioner’s”) orders and all. Should be a laugh. Just hope I don’t bump into anyone I went to high school with.

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