Is this a less-flamboyant parody of Demi Levato’s banging odyssey of sexual discovery ‘Cool For The Summer?’ Not quite.
As I am writing this, the time on the clock chimes 6 pm. Today has been overflowing with productivity, a staggering number of sugary mugs of tea and a good talking to by my boyfriend. I am upset about my weight (again) but that is a different story and I bought a ticket to see The Cribs in December earlier, so, all in all, I am pretty darn okay.
As you might be able to tell from the title of this blog post, I have been home, home for the past four weeks. Home is my beautiful lil’ flat in Castlefield, Manchester, however home, home is basically my bed in rural Northumberland. I needed a serious break from Manchester and I was so fortunate enough to be allowed it from work, so home, home is where I am at right now.
Sometimes, I allow things to get on top of me. Piled up so high, the weight of the world crushes my bones and I find it difficult to breathe untainted sighs of relief. The final straw of this year in Manchester – leading to me trekking up to the real north – came from the aftermath of a night out, when I looked at myself in the mirror and questioned who I even was anymore. I had no idea what had come over me but I had relapsed into somebody I once was. I had put everything (and I mean everything) on the line for something which lasted a short spell of time and caused a lot more bad than it ever will good. Spur-of-the-moment bad decisions that I do not regret, but just wish had not have happened under the circumstances. Unfortunately, I will always have the wound, but my momma’s Sunday roast has definitely has cured the pain.
I have done enough tarot card readings to know that the six of swords frequently tells me “do not run away from your problems” however, running away has possibly been the best thing I have bloody done all year. I have regained myself, rekindled my passion for productivity and put on a few extra pounds with all the food I have been eating. I am extremely happy and beyond content, gaining a little bit of weight around my middle is not a huge price to pay is it?
Like everything, I totally take where I live for granted. Seriously, the view outside of my bedroom window is insane. If you follow me on Instagram (@ellalascott) you would have seen it more times than none over the past few weeks. There is nothing better than waking up on a Tuesday morning, bright and breezy to hear and see sheep being driven down my road by quad bikes and collie dogs. The bleats and the stamping of hooves remind me that I am not in Kansas (Manchester) anymore.
People talk about going on holiday to the countryside for “fresh air” and I honestly never got my head around the idea. Duh, there is air everywhere, what makes the countryside’s so fresh and so great wah wah wah? Yeah so basically long story short I am now one of those people who tell e v e r y o n e how great the air is up here!! Does this mean I am old? (say it is not so!)
Since being home, I have been spending a copious amount of time in the hills with my big woofer as well as writing constantly. I have also been on a night out in the town of Alnwick (if you are thinking about it, don’t), been for food at the most a-m-a-z-i-n-g restaurant in Newcastle Upon-Tyne – The Earl of Pitt Street – spent some quality time with my mom and am 100% ready to get stuck into round 3 of Manchester.
Everything is finally coming up, Millhouse