No matter how many years you stay you will think of home. The feeling sub-dues as home becomes a more surreal place. You probably don’t actually want to go home, but still the mind will play tricks when times are bad. If you are feeling nostalgic, don’t get on the Internet just before bed. If you do the following might happen…
‘What a #@* waste of time,’ I thought, looking out the window at the morning sunlight starting to come through the curtains.
I had decided to give myself one little fix of home by typing the name of the local newspaper from my hometown into Google. I had seen the names of a few guys I played football with, and now six hours later I was still sitting there, blurry eyed.
‘Let me see, what pointless information have I learnt…,” I said to myself. ‘Weston football club has a hen night tomorrow…Courtesy of Somerset Tourist Board, Somerset is famous for cider, creams teas and there are caves in Wookey Hole – all that I of course fuckin’ know, and have known since I was five…Weston-Super-Mare has two piers and, after half an hour staring at the webcam picture located on the Old Pier it has only changed once…I know the list of shops in the Sovereign Center and the fact that Jerry and the Pacemakers are playing at Weston Playhouse Theatre even though I hate them. Hmm…did I purchase two tickets for my parents? - Have to phone visa later to check.
‘Right got a miserable day of work ahead and I don’t want to be late - Wow, Hobb’s Boat near fuckin’ Lympsham has a website…Stop! Turn off the computer you dopey pillock!’
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