Having finished a gruelling first year at the prestigious University of Northampton and leaving my house with only a broken window, front door, two broken beds, one arrest, one night in hospital, dozens of hangovers, and one extreme straw, I found my self back at my parents house in the country being asked where I was going, what I was doing, when I would be back and if I was having tea.
The first week of my 5 month summer break was spent in miserable rain, comfort eating and internet shopping my way through my student loan. Four days of drinking tea with my dad compared to the constant piss take of uni was about to kill me, until I was saved by a trip to the pub.
I was delighted to remember that I had had friends before uni and they were gradually making their way home for summer too, and like me were heading straight to the Bear and Ragged.
Then the impossible happened. After severe depression due to months of shite weather (the state of which pushed me to rant for entire car journeys in an Australian accent)-the sun! One Monday we woke up to the sun burning off the cloud and gloom like a massively clichéd film, I took the roof down on my car and donned my £4.99 H&M aviator shades. Perfection
However besides the sun making me feel a bit better I was still at a loss of how to fill my time. I did a spot of gardening and sunbathing and reading and CV handing out, but largely sat around listening to my brain cells individually rot.
Then, as all bored students do I decided to get my nose pierced. 'THIS IS A BRILLIANT IDEA!' A friend, Emma and I decided to make a day of it and got the train to Birmingham. Although other stores are available we decided to go to Blue Banana where Emma told me to act calm and not say much. After struggling with the consent form due to dyslexia, saying "woops" out-loud several times, asking Emma if we could hold hands and clapping occasionally with excitement I think the pale and pierced girls behind the counter had decided I wasn't exactly a regular badman.
The ordeal was over pretty quickly and we thought we best have a sit down and a peppermint tea; not being as "horizontal" - as our mums would say - as the shop girls.
Now, trust me to meddle. I love a good bit of self surgery, and only last week popped a spot on the inside of my nose with a sewing needle. So the casual cleaning and maintenance was a gift to me. That is until I accidentally pulled out the stud, panicked, shoved it back in and nearly fainted at 1am. After a sit-down with my head between my legs I decided the best thing to do would be to wake my parents and tell them about the situation so that my mum would tell me it would be okay.
I'm fairly sure the shop girls never have to tell their parents their nose studs actually rather hurt, and have a bit of a cry.