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     After an early start and a long drive, we arrived at the flats. My dad kept asking why I didn't go to a university a bit closer to home. I just smiled politely. On entering the flat, I noticed that Chris had arrived early and had taken the nicest room (Chris is a flatmate, by the way, and not some vagrant who has wandered in off the street - many people find this surprising). Mark, my remaining flatmate, arrived later, and got the dark dingy room with poor layout and a door that sticks. He is somewhat bitter about this. I don't know why. Once everything was unloaded from the car, my parents took me shopping for a few bits and pieces I'd overlooked such as bedding. An easy oversight when packing. In addition, they took me out for lunch. This seems to be a very civilised idea. I think it is so my mum knows I've had at least one good meal down here. After lunch I unpacked with the help of my parents. This is always a boon, since otherwise the process of unpacking can take over a week. Just a little blind spot I seem to possess. No matter how little I pack, I always seem to have the same (large) amount of stuff to unpack. All too soon it was time for my parents to return home, leaving me to the awful crushing loneliness that afflicts me at these times. I go to talk to Mark and Chris. They are watching Neighbours. I return to the awful crushing loneliness. It somehow seems less awful and crushing in comparison with Australian soap opera. Dinner is a culinary masterpiece of chicken and pasta. Only I have brought chicken. Mark and Chris have pasta. In an attempt to liven it up a bit, they add tinned ham. This is a lesson in life that is best learned early - tinned ham will not liven any dish up. They ate it anyway. After dinner, we visited the flat above us. They possess a Nintendo console. We played a racing game, but then resorted to going to the pub. On our return Mark and Chris went back to play Mariokart. I went to bed. I don't drink and drive. |
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