So, today my parents left for Spain (it's alright for some- I'm just slumming it in Australia!), and will not be contactable by email during this time. Father instructed me to phone should the need for assistance arise, but alack, my mobile doesn't seem to work in the land of Oz.
I am on my own.
Granted, it's only for two weeks, which is not a lot of time; I've been out of contact with my parents for longer, certainly. But this time I am on the other side of the world, in a country where I am still very new; where I can't just make a transfer from my savings account if I mismanage my funds, because it takes a long time to transfer; where I can't contact Orla or Moira if something comes up.
I am on my own.
I understand I'm being melodramatic and that, most likely, this fortnight will pass without incident (I am trying to kick my habit of knocking on wood- right now is an ordeal, to say the least. It's just the knowledge that, should some thing go awry (this word should not rhyme with my name, Esmond), I will have to brave the storm without parental guidance. I could fall so much further than I ever have before, but I could also soar to new heights.
I am on my own.
Time to kick ass.
Just in case you have some sort of newfangled Australian email that has made you forsake your UK one, I've just sent you an email, Awry Rory.
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