I'm sitting in an empty, echoey flat on a Sunday morning. My lovely parents, having helped me pack up the remainder of my belongings (which, frankly, felt like the majority of my belongings...bloody possessions...), have left me here to both give the flat a final cleaning and to get over the symptoms of slight alcohol poisoning from Friday night's debacle-filled leaving party from my beloved school (sorry guys, I'm a handful, but I love you.) Leaving work, moving house, going to Mexico: three things you normally wouldn't do
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