If I could save time in a bottle...

I leave in two weeks. TWO WEEKS. Fourteen days. I've looked at the list of stuff that needs doing in this time and am very, very glad I have managed to cut down on shifts. Still have no idea if I shall get it all done. Therefore apologies in advance to anyone I don't have the opportunity to see before I go. Alternatively you could just rock up to my "Come & consume caffeine and sugar with the moonbug" gathering next Sunday. Email me for details.

Speaking of going away invites, I've been calling up people I haven't seen in awhile just to let them know I'm leaving etc and I found out that (amongst other things) a old school friend is now a parent. This has for some strange reason caused me to muse a little on my own existence and to assess what have I really achieved in my twenty three and a half or so years of my current life. Sadly, I get the feeling not an awful lot. I haven't ever managed to hold down a emotionally successful (or positive, or long term) romantic relationship, will often substitute work for emotional contact with people and, whilst I get broody on occasion, the concept of actually being a parent generally freaks me out, though mostly for the sake of the child rather than myself. There is a big part of me that is worried that I really should be starting to grow up by now. I mean I've finished uni so I should get a real job in my field of education, right? And I should start saving for a mortgage, right? And I should find a nice suitable male partner so that I can have a hideously expensive white wedding, right? Only to be followed with 2.5 kids, a dog and a white picket fence, right? And then several miserable years of marriage before he runs off with his secretary, right?

Fuckit, I don't want to grow up. Yet.