So it’s the last day home alone – and I must say that this weekend hasn’t been too bad, really. Probably the worst part of it will be the bookin tomorrow.
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Strangely, a variety of disparate memories have been popping back into my head for the past day or two. A minority were good ones, but the bulk of the other experiences were either neutral or painful at the time. But now they don’t seem that way, not as much anyway. Now they give the impression of being a precious time, and in my mind’s eye I see a lost sojourner, trapped in the fumbling which arose only as a result of prior fumbling, and so on. I was never very happy then. It’s all very odd that these (seemingly) unconnected thoughts and sensations should surface the way they have suddenly.
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Perhaps even more strangely, I feel mildly excited about the coming week. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve let myself get excited for no discernible reason. Maybe it’s the prospect of the imminent Friday the 13th (no, seriously – I mean what the date entails for me), or the fact that I might actually be working alongside – well, not really – some of my 20th-FDC coursemates once again. Major packing, here we go.
