I have been writing about That Significant Event I Mentioned. It is taking a while because I am very bad at narratives.

I've been having this dream lately, where I'm rushing to pack my things so I can make it in time for my flight to UK. I'm off to the UK in about a year to finish off my degree, so it's either the Gods warning me that I would do some pretty last-minute packing again, or that I'm eagerly anticipating my time in the UK, so much so that my subconscious is spending time thinking what I should pack for the stay while I slumber.
The second option might be coupled with the fact that so many friends of mine are now in the UK that it's seriously messing with my psyche. My poor subconscious somehow just couldn't take it, and it's starting so see the faces of people who have left for the UK in the faces of strangers (seriously), and starting to panic about missing the flight to UK.

Now that I've analysed myself while typing this out, I'm slightly worried about my sanity.

I think there's this gloom in this post. Must be because I've been reading F. Scott Fitzgerald and listening to a cover of Bob Dylan's You're Gonna Miss Me When You're Gone. The melancholy is seeping in.