Well it is the final day, final morning, my stuff is (mostly) completely packed and I am only a few forms of transportation and 16 hours away from seeing my family again. I am excited to go back and see them and show them pictures and give them souvenirs, and eat American pizza and Wawa, and have the free groceries and laundry facilities that come with living at home. And I am without a doubt very excited to go back to a place where the exchange rate is 1:1. And while I’m not hugely enthusiastic, it will be nice to go back to work and breathe some life back into my bank account, which has been on parental life support for at least a month. I’m glad I get to go back and help my mom out – makes things a little easier to have another driver in the house when Dad is away and Jess is busy. I’m not exactly looking forward to my writing project (the deadline for which is creeping up rather quickly) as much as I thought I would be, but hopefully as I begin it will get easier to write. I am going to attempt to do a collection of short nonfiction essays, essentially each a portrait of a character I met while working at Garden State Flower Market, and hopefully it can be titled Portraits from a Flower Shop. I’m working with Lea Graham, and I don’t want to disappoint her.
So basically this summer will consist of selling shoes, writing stories, GRE review/reading, and helping out around the house. I’m sure I’ll be able to sneak in a few beach trips, and my 21st IS only a month and a half away. It will be busy and not very lazy and I don’t have as much of it as I usually do, but summer is going to be relatively enjoyable regardless.
I know that in between all the business, though, I’m going to be missing London. I’m going to miss obvious things: the history, the nightlife, the architecture, the sheer vastness of it, the ability to walk out my door and find just about anything I need within 15 minutes, the Tube, the accent, the cider, the pub food, the view from my window, the taxis, the markets, the shopping, and yes, even thelondonpaper. I’m sure that there is so much more that I will miss that I can’t even think of right now because I am too accustomed it. But I’ll realize when I go back, without a doubt. I’m expecting this to feel like a break-up, but one that I must suffer through privately. People at home are going to be offended if I keep talking about how great London was and sharing memories that they can only appreciate for the plot. They’re going to get sick of me talking about my travels, because their lives went on as well. That’s going to be the hardest part I think... the lack of someone to share it all with, the lack of someone who understands that I’ve grown attached to London – it’s home to me. But I guess that’s where you come in, blog dear, and I’ll just relive all my memories and release my homesickness on your virtual pages.
And I’ll be back here. Maybe to study, maybe to live. At least to visit. But it’s only a matter of time.
I’ve only just realized, but I’ve officially called London home. So I guess that’s a good spot to end my journey for now. And it’s a good thing because I only have an hour before I have to check out of my residence hall!