Every weekend, I go back home to Wales 150 miles away to see the family and my dogs. Friday night is brilliant - get home at 8 and watch crap TV with the dogs on my knee. Get up and go to work all day Saturday to earn some money to keep the lights on. Have a nice meal on Sat night. Nice, normal stuff.
Sundays are horrid; by now we are getting used to being back home with the family and nice surroundings. We remember how nice and easy our old life used to be, before leaving local well paid jobs for me to study medicine. I take the dogs back to my mums, and then pack the car up before hitting the motorway to come back here.
I am sitting back in my little flat now - am very depressed! Would rather be back home with my three smelly dogs on my knee, reading the Sunday papers with my mum. These are the hard parts of giving everything up to do medicine when you are an oldie.
Never mind...tomorrow I will be one step closer to qualifying and then we can get our lives back to some normality.
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while I don't go home at weekends I do empathise I hate sundays.. always end up with so much to do" so today I had my monday roast to celebrate finishing a module today. hurrah. grindestone tommorrow!
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