I don’t much enjoy residential thingys because I hate packing for them. There’s never any suspense or surprise involved. It’s always the same – underwear, umbrellas, repellent, plastic bags. You’d think they’d vary it every year just to incentivise packing.
I don’t know what I’m talking about. I haven’t had enough sleep since April and tomorrow I’ll be rushing off to the glorious Creative Arts Programme which as yet does not excite me at all, which may explain the lack of a packed bag (or bag for that matter). Going this year is more of a formality than anything. I did enjoy writing, but writing is something I undertake in serenity, and JC life has not seen much of that.
[There are probably also no chio girls to look forward to.]
I hope the CAP (T-)shirt is nice because memories are fleeting but T-shirts are ETERNAL.
Five days of my precious month-long June will be spent away at this event and I hope it is worth that or more. Now good night as I bumble around searching for garments to form luggage.