December 20th 2019
Today, on the last Friday night before Christmas I was at home in bed by 7pm and I don’t feel guilty about it at all. I was told today that “youth is wasted on the young” because I had no plans for tonight, but I am totally, totally fine with it. I feel ill, I’m tired, I’ve had a long week with little sleep, I just wanted to get into bed and finish watching season seven of The Office (the good one, not the british one).
And so that is exactly what I did. The part of my night I am not overly proud of, however, was when I got peckish at like 11pm and ate cereal out of a saucepan because we haven’t bought any cereal bowls for the flat yet.
Not my finest hour.
Tomorrow I need to drive back to Swindon to pick up the rest of my things, as well as see my Mum and Dad. Mum will cook for me, and I’m sure it’ll be better than Weetabix Minis out of a saucepan.
Until tomorrow, that said, Weetabix Minis are a gift from God.