'cus you know me. I do love a quickie every now and again.
Which brings me to my point.
Ibiza.
You know, I was bear grylls up for it when Henry and I originally planned it. But things change. I don't know. Part of the reason I am so adverse to going is that i'm going to miss someone very special, and I don't want him to be worrying about me either. And secondly, I dunno. When Ben and I were sat looking through the brochure earlier, and like, everyone is just out to get their pants off and get STD's. I think when I originally dreamed up the idea, I thought it would be a few mates getting drunk in a different environment, but as it turns out, that's not how it's gonna roll.
Seven days is a long time.
I've ordered two hefty books. As long as I come back well read, with a tan and some cool pictures and the stamp in my passport, I will be happy. And I am coming to terms with the fact that this may be seven days I spend predominantly on my own.
I am rarely happy am I?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment