you must have known that i was fond of you

I am back at home for a brief soujourn before I flit off to Russia.

I miss my little yellow room. It is completely empty and devoid of life. I am sad to leave it behind. I'm finding it strange having to ajust to having doors on my wardrobe and actually having drawers. I keep checking my pocket when I go to the loo to see if I have got my key, even though I don't need to anymore. I have more space but less privacy.

Sleeping in the dark is proving difficult. I have just set up my radio alarm clock, which now provides a comforting warm glow, reminding me of city centre living.

I miss noise. Life is so quiet here.

I have lost independence. I can no longer easily get to anywhere I would ever want to go by myself. The bus now costs £4.70 rather than £1. I can't get to the trian station in 14 minutes.

The sitting had been completely commandeered by Katherine while my parents continued their exile to the "breakfast room".

It is impossible here for 4 people to share the kitchen, whereas 16 coped perfectly well in our cupboard-kitchen in London. No one sits around together just chatting. At uni we cook seperate dishes but eat together, at home there is one dish and seperate rooms.

There's no newspaper in the kitchen anymore. There are no tea breaks. No one does the crossword. Grocery shopping is no longer a social activity. If someone wants to go out, no one will go with you anymore.