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Tuesday, August 30, 2016

The Last Hurrah

One of the main reasons I decided to move back home was because I was suffering major flatmate burnout. Gus and I had a huge row one weekend, one that we will no doubt laugh hysterically about in the not too distant future, and I decided it wasn't such a good idea us living together. Of course people said "told ya so" but I have a tendency not to heed the advice of others. So after all that debating about what to do with the bonus I received from work I ended up using it to live a solitary, carefree month by myself. It was awesome but at the back of my mind I still had the niggling worry about who the next flatmate was. I then had a flurry of interest in the room and every single person was unsuitable. So I thought, as I often do in these situations; What Would Jesus Do? He'd go back and live with Mary and Joesph, or in my case, Mary and Bert.

I gave in my month's notice on the flat and then I really enjoyed my time alone. Well, for about 3 weeks, and then I felt that I had O.D'd a little watching the Bad Girls Club and I was, in fact, wanting to revert back to 'bad girl' tendencies and get drunk on Tequila and suchlike, and so on and so forth. I was tired of my own company. Ready to live communally again. As it happens, Nellybert's social life is far more prolific than my own and there's always a hive of activity but the option of solitude if needed.

But, alas, after 3 weeks I got a week off work and then I created my own hive of activity. Dirt Bird joined Nelly, the dogs, and I in Fanad and we had a wonderful time chilling, chatting and childhooding, which is a made-up word to make this sentence sound more punchy but basically means getting in touch with our inner child. We saw a Lookout Cow which we saluted and we mostly ate, cheese, bread and foosted fruit.

Thursday was my last night in the flat and the bad girl within me could not be contained. Jakers had been round picking some stuff up from me and I tempted him to join Ziggy and I for a drink at the pub. As always, everyone remembered Ziggy but wasn't quite sure who I was. It's always the nights you least expect it that turn out the best. We played guitar and chatted until the early hours of the morning and then it was Moving Day which went by smoothly enough considering my fragile state of being. The Super Duper Lovely Mels came to hang out and her mum took us to Mount Stewart the next day. Ziggy tried to take on a hissing swan with young cygnets. This would be Ziggy the dog who goes to pubs, listens to BBC Radio 4 and, quite frankly, should know better.

So that's what I've been at. Now here's a photo of a lily I was particularly endeared by :)

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