Well, I'm back at what is NOW the 'old' Alma Mater...Warwick University campus in the summer...gorgeous.

...and I'm not coming back.

As in, I mean, I'm here, and I'm not coming back as a student. this explanation rather ruins the dramatic effect of the above, doesn't it?
Arse.

The parents are back tomorrow, the almost-girlfriend left yesterday along with a change in status, and against all the evidence I am no longer bored.

There is a lot to do on the Isle of Wight, regardless of whether you actually want to do it or not, and well, knowing it's there while I do exactly nothing at all is a kind of consolation. If, at any time, I wish to do something, I may. There's a world of difference between that and enforced boredom. Now I'm doing nothing out of choice.

Mind you, I was worried about being bored through choice when I came back to the island.
A disturbing smell of smoke arrests my nostrils. I hope the parrot isn't attempting to chew through the TV power cable again. I'll continue this rant in a bit.