Let's be 1905, but not 1917.
I'm Emily, I'm 18, and I come from a reasonably large town in Staffordshire. I'm an A-Level student, and an aspiring linguist, when it suits me. When it doesn't suit me, I'm a wannabe musician who tries to be well-read and maybe a bit cultured. Hopefully off to the University of Nottingham to study French and Spanish this September, if I knuckle down and get the grades. Surgically attached to my iPod, first class procrastinator. Frank Turner is a bearded god, and without Belle and Sebastian, I'd have been a very miserable person.
I got into town after college and the bus was just pulling away so I thought it would be a good idea to walk home instead of wait 15 minutes for the next one and it started to rain and then the next bus came past me halfway up the hill and I was on the wrong side of the road so i couldn’t catch it so I had to walk and my socks were falling off and I was wearing DMs so they started to rub and blister and pop and bleed and when I got home I had no time to make pasta so i had to have a sandwich and i was soaked bleeding and hungry and then my driving lesson was utter shit so i’m sitting in my room wanting chocolate and THERE IS NONE IN THE HOUSE and i’m losing it i swear
/rant
