The Leaving Song

If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m a fucking idiot. A Fucking Idiot. The most recent reason for this is that I changed my flight and now I’m going back to the UK a week earlier. Which is next Saturday. And as I found out later – this was absolutely unnecessary. Why? Well, I was supposed to fly be there on October the 5th, and then I received an email from my Psychology Department in the university that I have to be there on the 27th of September for some registration – that it is COMPULSORY. And I panicked. I knew that I preregistered in May before going home and my registration is to be done online. I knew that I’m probably not gonna be the only person who won’t show up there on the 27th. I knew all I have to do is ask the department if it really is a big deal if I’m not there. I knew all that, but I panicked. I spent the following day not being able to breathe normally, and then finally decided to tell my parents so we can decide what to do. And I did send an email asking about that registration, but before receiving the answer, I managed to find a flight before that date, and changed it. If I had waited for an answer one more day, I would have probably visited the ER. So you can imagine how fast I went through the 5 stages of grief the next day, when they answered me saying it’s ok if I’m not there, and that I can register online without any problems. Most notably, the fastest transition was between Stage 2 – Anger, and Stage 4 – Depression. I managed to cut 10 days out of the 20 I had left at home for just 20 minutes. And for no reason at all. There’s still one week left here, but that’s the one I hate the most – you’re busy visiting doctors, making final arrangements before leaving, counting down the days, packing, and not being able to stop the clock and do everything you wanted to do in summer, but didn’t have time. That’s the problem with time – it doesn’t stop. I know there’s a positive side – I’m gonna see people I haven’t seen in 4 months, eat my favorite vegetarian food, see the new house… I think I already wrote about that in the last post… Anyway, when I get there and spend a few days getting used to that life again, I know I won’t feel so homesick, because I’ll be busy with so many stuff… But I’m still home, I still have that annoying last week, and I HATE long goodbyes. I can’t stand them. But I’ve been through this before and I know I’ll be ok.

No scribbles yet. None, zero, zip. I’m beginning to think Bulgaria is having a bad influence on my “talent”, had the talent ever existed. So I think I won’t be writing here until I get back to Aber, because I’m trying not to think about it very much, and writing here makes me think… about it. Yeah, whatever, bye-bye!