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Day Four



7am: Wake up fairly early, shower and then sit in bed in my dressing gown looking at return flights, while A does the same with work emails. Decide that flying back to Heathrow with a decent airline is about as much hassle as flying to Manchester with a crap one, so book BRU > LHR for £62. Two train tickets from Heathrow to Leeds are £39 when I first look, but I’m interrupted by morning sex, oops. When I get back to looking, prices have gone up to £66. I inform A that he owes me £27, then promptly book first class seats for £82 because that’s hardly any difference and I’m on an endorphin high, so fuck it. Total £144, comes from my 'holiday savings' pot.



11.09am: Empty my jar of random currency and find €86 and £2.90, so feel like I’m quids in.



11.12am: Remember my car is out of petrol and I’ve already spent my petrol money this month, so raid the pub jar for pound coins. Petrol is more important than pints!



11.30am: Spend £17.28 on petrol. The man looks at me funny when I pay in coins, but it’s legal tender, so shove it. It gets me less than half a tank, but it should last until the end of the month.



12pm: I’m scheduled for five hours of uni today but end up skipping my last lecture. I had an essay returned with the lowest mark I’ve ever gotten, so I head home early and call A in tears. I’m on a solid 2:1 but a first was within reach if I work hard and inch my average up. This mark has made that almost impossible. I know a 2:1 is still great but it’s frustrating to feel like I’ve put everything on hold to come back to uni and not get the marks I’m working so hard for.



4.30pm: A is waiting in his car when I get home and he waves me inside and drives me to Lidl. To cheer me up, we’re going hunting for a Christmas cottage cake I saw on Instagram this morning. We don’t find it, but do buy mulled wine, sourdough bread, baking bits, Disney-branded breakfast cereal and lebkuchen, which are my favourite Christmas treat. A pays. (P.S. Disney-branded breakfast cereal tastes like arse, and Disney should stick to movies.)



5.30pm: It’s election day, so we walk down to the local polling station. Put my X in the box and feel very anxious about the state of politics at the moment. Feel very grateful that I can afford to have a house and a fridge full of food, and angry that so many people are relying on food banks. Worry about what the results will mean for the NHS, and my friends who rely on it.



7.30pm: Dinner is bread, cheese and pickles in front of a Christmas movie, with cocktails that we don’t quite have the right ingredients for, and are well out of practice making. At some point during the evening A makes fun of my wonky toes, and I drunkenly buy some kind of toe-straightening device from Amazon for £8.99.



10.30pm: The exit polls are out and it’s not the result I wanted. I’ll be useless tomorrow if I stay up all night worrying, so try to get an early night.



Total: £170.27