A day doesn’t go by when I don’t think about my life in
England. Be it a photograph or a status on Facebook or doing something again
for the first time since I got back. I miss my friends, the environment the
lifestyle and I miss the person that I was. There was so much excitement of
living on campus, drinking every second night, barely studying and enjoying the
freedom of living a life where consequences hardly matter. The things however,
that I miss the most isn’t the parties and the cheap booze and the plentiful
amount of attractive international men – it’s the routine that I created.
Each morning, I would be work by a knock on the door,
throwing on whatever clothes that were lying on the floor and met with my three
favourite housemates (or people. In the entire world) and trekked sleepily down
to the dining hall for breakfast. We would part ways go to classes, if our time
tables suited, we’d meet up for lunch or lounge around in each-others rooms
before heading down with our whole dorm for dinner, gossip and a whole lot of
laughs. Every day, normally integrated with some of the drama that seemed to
follow us wherever we went. But that was the main part. It was normal. There
was normality.
But since returning, that routine has vanished. I wake up in
the morning with no plan, no structure and no motivation. I know I need to
create something; something to give my days reason again. I want to make a new
routine to get me back into a somewhat normal life again. I want, no, it’s more
than a want, it’s a need – I need to regain some of the routine.
