I’ve been watching The Office all day, starting again from the beginning. Still awesome. Season two just kicks my chest in every time. I probably won’t make it to season three by the time I leave.
Sunday. Two days until I’ll be flying to meet her.
I like this song more than I probably should.
I feel lonely. I’ve been sad all week, really. I know why, but it’s tedious, as it always is.
But soon I’ll be with her. Looking through her pictures now because I miss her. It’ll be nice to be there, hold her in my arms, fall asleep and wake up to her face.
It’s funny how the world becomes smaller the more you travel even though it gets bigger, again. Expanding even as it shrinks. It’s funny how you get used to be cooped up, too. I had only flown, I think, twice before I went to Ireland but now I’ve been on countless planes. And that first eight hour flight was almost unbearable, but the more time you spend on buses, on planes, on trains, in cars, when eight hours becomes normalised and you find that a seventeen hour busride is terrible but completely doable, and, really, not that bad, when it comes down to it. Just boring.
I travel because I’m restless and never have been able to sit still, so it’s funny how still you have to be for so long in order to be able to travel.
So it goes.
I’ve spent pretty much the whole day in bed.
Two more days.