Im blogging from the bath today because I can. My feet look all horrid and red because my bad circulation in my feet thinks the bath is too hot, when the rest of my body is just right.
Anyway, I just got off the phone to my Mom as I wanted to have a little rant about my shitty past few days. It was great to vent and be reassured that there’s always going to be dicks in life (actual words) haha, and not to take it to heart.
Then my Mom went on to talk about the spare room at home, and that it’s time to move everything of mine down to Cardiff. Everything.
It’s fair enough my Mom wants to turn it into an overflow work room for her, and put a sofa bed in for when me and Luke stay over. I happily agreed but it’s a fucking terrifying thought. This is the icing on the cake of moving out for good. At least I get to be reunited with all my Doctor Who figures?! Ahaa.
I’ve always thought to myself that I left home when I first started Uni and had no plans on coming back, however when you see at everything you own been taken from home to Cardiff it’s a weird, scary, definite feeling. There’s no going back now.