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Written last night while cut-off from the word on a train travelling through the middle of nowhere.


I spend a lot of my life on trains. Reading, listening, gazing, or trying in vain to sleep. Trains are second nature to me. My home from home on the move. My home on the rails. As seen in my post about safe spaces, I like familiarity. It is comforting. The train I take home has never changed. I have been taking the same route, travelling on the same schedule, in the same carriage for almost a decade. I know most of the staff on sight and, sometimes,  even discuss the conductor’s university-age daughter when he is on shift. My train journeys are long, too long to be considered a commute. So when I travel, I set up shop, dedicating myself to that space for the next few hours. I’ve had adventures on this train. I’ve played poker with Russians, sang Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of my voice, had a deep and intense three-hour conversation with a gentleman whose name I failed to learn, yet whose intelligence and presence has stuck with me always.

I don’t really have a point to this rambling. I think I’m just nostalgic. Is it possible to be nostalgic for the present? I think I miss home. I miss having a home. I always have a home to go to, but it’s not the same as being there. Living in halls is like living in limbo and, I think, retrospectively, it has been feeling like that for a while now. My future didn’t work out like I expected. I didn’t find home where I thought, probably naively, that I would. I still don’t have a home to be in. I have a home to go to, but not be in. I think that’s why I’m restless. Everything just now, and for many months to come yet, is leading to that point. To that person and that home. I have both now, and I cherish that more than I could possibly write, but I’m ready to settle. To stop having everything be up in the air. To plan the future, to plan adventures, together.

I’m ready to be home.

Lists

I woke up thinking about lists. Specifically my to-do list for this weekend. Naturally, after such a rude awakening, I needed tea. After all, that overflowing Moleskine of notes and thoughts and general ramblings won’t take care of itself. Now I’m contemplating student accommodations. The logistics involved in negotiating toilet roll for 6 girls. So simple, so disastrous. (1. Buy more toilet roll). I can’t wait to be out of halls and into my own place. It must be a sign of my control freak tendencies that I’m looking forward to being in a place where I can have full control over my environment (and the state of my cooker). Mostly, I’m looking forward to having someone there to make me tea in the morning, because you can usually measure my level of exhaustion by the number of attempts I make to put the tea bag in the sink instead of the bin.

At least today is a duvet day. Also an extremely busy one, but I am in perfect proximity to my duvet and my kettle so I will manage. Also, they got mad at me the last time I tried to take my duvet into the computer lab.