I went into Barcelona yesterday. It's such an easy journey, I'll definitely be going again soon. We only went to take the older girl to the orthodontist (she's only 8, isn't that really early to be getting a brace?) so I didn't get much chance to explore this time.
Yesterday I was like... Time is going fast, I can definitely cope with another 5 and a half weeks here. This morning, not so much. I was on Facebook and saw that one of my best friends is home from uni and I want to be there too! Instead I'm here, on my own, bored... I guess I have the sun though. 38 days to go.
I'm sad that I'm counting down the days. I knew this would happen. I plan things and get all excited, but still find myself ending up counting down until the end. I keep thinking about how excited I'm going to feel when I get on the plane home. Eeee can't wait. 5 weeks 4 days. By Saturday it will be 4 weeks and 6 days. I just need to remember that time will pass. I can do it, right?
This weekend I want to stay in the town, I'm supposed to be going for drinks on Friday (FINALLY A SOCIAL EVENT!) and an au pair from the next village has asked if I want to meet up on Saturday. But the family want to go to their house in the country. How can I get out of it? It's also Gay Pride Festival and I want to see the parades etc!
Oh life. It's such a strange thing. I wonder if I will ever be content with the speed it's going and what I am doing with it.