Only one more (full) day and I'm off. I am absolutely, completely, totally stressing out. Big time. Mainly about my luggage. Only about my luggage, actually. That it'll be too heavy, that it'll be too big, exactly how I will get it from one train onto the next and into a car, how I will get my bike back to Liverpool, all these things are trailing on my mind and making me go completely mad. I am supposed to clean up my room to get my deposit back, too, but as this stress is way too much already, I have decided I cannot be bothered. The cleaning staff will re-do it anyway, so what's the point.
I cannot write today, not well, not coherent, or literary, or with a sweet lingering savor which resonances for a good few days in your ears. Too much stress, I am afraid.
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