So, see how many things I have left unsorted in Durham:
Telephone bills.
Library fines.
A degree course.
Places I should have visited but somehow didn't manage to.
A chance to fight with my dear friends against the evil dissertation.
Do all kinds of silly things to Bill Bryson in the Cathedral.
And the list goes on and on and on.
All these thoughts are so depressing.
I must be trying to run away from something.
I'm totally deflated.
It's too late.
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