So, apparently I haven't posted since April 26. And by "apparently", I mean "in cold hard fact".
In all fairness, since April 26, all I've done is work. That's it. I've come reasonably close to a nervous breakdown. I've gone out, like, twice. Maybe three times. I can barely remember what my friends look like. I've hardly written for Londonist. It's been very exhausting.
But, I've just had a week of holiday and I'm feeling much better now. I'm even making plans to see people! It's crazy, I know.
I've had a super veg-out holiday, which has been fab. I've basically read, watched episodes of Felicity and slept. I've also seen a few people, but it's mainly been about the chillaxing.
Have I ever mentioned how much I love Felicity? Because, I really, really do. I've watched the whole first season over the last week, and it's been delighftul. I'd forgotten how much I liked that show. And I had this super clear memory of sitting with Mandy in a movie theatre in Mississauga after the season one finale, telling her all about it and telling her that she should watch it. And, I was totally right. Because it's such a good show.
It's also made me very nostalgic for my first year of university, which was TWELVE YEARS AGO. Holy crap, I'm old. In September 1996, I went to York and met all these amazing (and not so amazing) people. Some of them I'm still friends with, some of them I'm not. A few of them, I look back at photos and I can't even remember their names. Good times, I tell you!
Holy crap. Twelve years. Shouldn't I feel like more of a grown up by now?
