I want to start off by apologizing to those of you who may have read the title of this entry and thought that I had FINALLY found a cute british boy to gallivant around England with for the rest of the semester. The prospect of that actually happening before I come home is becoming slim, especially since I will be traveling around this coming week with good ole' Dad. But, despite the obstalces, I have found a lovely snuggle buddy: [please don't laugh, this is my real life] my laundry bag. Ok, now before you judge, today I was doing my laundry in preparation for my Scottish adventure. I went down to take all my clothes out of the dryer, which is located in the building next door. Of course, I went down there with a t-shirt on, and I was instantly freezing as I stepped out of the building. Anyway, I made it to the laundry room, and I loaded my clothes into my laundry bag, steaming hot. I actually had to pause for a little break because the skin on my palms were burning. By the time I made it up to my room, I collapsed on my bed with my huge bag of laundry. It didn't matter that my head was at the wrong end of my bed, or that my feet were dangerously close to my pillow, with my arms wrapped around the warmth of my laundry bag, I was genuinely happy. I ended up taking a nice nap and woke up thinking that if anyone had walked in the room with me tightly hugging my laundry bag, they probably would have died laughing. Luckily, I'm in Bath, and theres not much to do, so everyone else was probably taking a nap too.
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