Thank god that week is over.
48hrs and counting.
The sound you hear is the impatient tapping of my nails upon the desk.
It's odd, feeling so out-of-sorts with the world you're in. Bored, essentially. Waiting. It's like getting a flat tyre on the road of life, while everyone else speeds by with such urgency and purpose.
A few people have said that the only time that I'm at my most natural, my most impulsive, is when I'm travelling. Perhaps seven days isn't quite enough to reclaim that free spirit, but I'll take whatever I can get.
To travel abroad, especially alone, is also a great way to get some real perspective on your life back home.
Oh, on an aside - Lord of the Flies is one of the dullest books I have read in a long while. I am quite glad indeed I didn't have to read/study this at school. Very much looking forward to immersing myself in The Shadow of the Wind though whilst I'm away. I've had it recommened from quite a few sources, and recently I've found word-of-mouth to be very reliable barometer indeed.