The longest month in the history of the world

In my last post, I was feeling pretty good about August. Well, that didn't last long...

Turns out, August 2013 felt like the longest month in the history of the world. There were times, actually many times, when I thought September would never come - that I'd been transferred into some alternative universe, where time has slowed down, and September never comes. But it did. Finally.

I'm not saying August has been a bad month, really. I've spent time with my friends, gone for lunch a lot (always to my favourite restaurant, di Trevi), celebrated my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary with my family, spent a relaxing weekend at the summer house, and, most importantly, sold every single piece of furniture that I own (almost, anyway - I'm never getting rid of my lovely kitchen table), as well as lots of other bits and pieces, thrown out 6 massive bin bags of stuff, and moved my few remaining possessions to my dad and stepmum's house. There has certainly been enough to do to fill the last month of summer, and no reason for it to pass so very, veeery slowly.

Everything I own. Well, almost, anyway...

Well, no reason, except for the obvious. Being away from my boyfriend for 5 weeks was probably the worst idea I've ever had, no matter how much money it saved me to stay in Finland until I could move into my new flat in Edinburgh. We both agreed that I'm never allowed to do stupid things like that again, unless he comes along.

"10 days left", but who's counting...