I really don't want to seem ungrateful, my family very kindly did a bunce-in job and paid for me to accompany them on holiday to Portugal next week: but I could really do with not going.
I don't enjoy sun holidays, I'd rather do the whole city-walking thing. But they were so lovely to suggest it in order to cheer me up I didn't like to seem narky by saying 'I'd rather not.' Besides, at the time a short trip away from all my problems seemed like the greatest plan ever.
But now it's upon me and I'm not excited for it at all. It helps not that I'm still the weight I was pre-summer. That I can't afford anything new to wear. Moping around a chilly Dublin suits my mood a little better than a sunny Algarve.
And now I'm just going to stop moaning like an emo and cop-on to the fact that so many more people in the world have actual problems and don't bitch half as much about them as I do. I'll shut my trap now.
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