Life After Festivals.

29 Jul

So, er…in a month’s time I’ll be back home in Plymouth. I’ll have been away, and will now be having to deal with the horrific comedown off the back of the Fringe.

The last two years I’ve cried on the train back.

In 2010, I wouldn’t stop sobbing in the car after my parents came and picked me up from the station.

I’m starting to think I get too attached to things. And people, for that matter.

It may be that I end up having so much fun in Edinburgh that the mundane and ordinary life I lead for the other 11 months of the year just doesn’t seem like a fun prospect.

But there we go.

This year I’m going to have too much to do on my return to get upset and sad. I’m going to be packing for my big house move, as well as making some headway with the planning of the outside broadcasts for Tone Radio’s Freshers Week coverage.

Stressed doesn’t even begin to cover how I’m feeling about it all. But right this minute, I’m more concerned about having an incredible month in a beautiful city, surrounded by some of the most wonderful people I’m lucky enough to be able to call my friends.

And I can’t wait.

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