We've reached a strangely suspended time in the year. On Tuesday I celebrated (somewhat prematurely) the end of the second year at university, even though I still have an essay due in eight days' time. So, everyone is still here, now suddenly without structure or goal, whilst the rain pours outside. We still haven't tipped into summer yet.
Today I went back to my old school, carrying boxes of exercise books for my mum. And, dressed in green, I felt appropriately like Godzilla - blundering down tiny familiar corridors and trying not to crush the tiny objects underneath my feet. There were some kids doing recorder lessons in my mum's classroom, who regarded me with with a mixture of awe and fascination - she tells them about our family, just as they tell her about theirs I guess. A lot has changed at St. Philip's; but some bits remain exactly as I remember them - that's comforting in a way. I also remember when 21 seemed unfathomably old.
I also found a kite today, on top of the wardrobe in the spare room. As soon as all of this is over, I'm running away with it to the beach. And never coming back.
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