Around the same time every year I start to feel closed in. It's pre-exam season, I have stress-induced acne from my face to my shoulders to my back and the dry, harsh, frankly British climate is killing any last natural oils on my skin and hair. I am awaiting the "spring clean" motivation to get me out of this winter slump and into a well-oiled and organised machine. This is about the time where funnily enough I get an itch to escape. To jump on a plane and venture into the tropics where the weather compliments my freckles and rids me of my red undertone.
It may be that I've watched too many of the Kardashian (luxurious) "vacation" episodes recently, in order to postpone monotonous piles of revision, or maybe it is this odd month of March where the seasons are in limbo, but I need a holiday. So. Much.
I always wonder if those who live abroad in these hot, sunny climates often dream of venturing to our northern districts. Do they feel the pre-spring itch of longing for a getaway? If it were me I don't think I'd ever leave. To live a life in constant freckle season is to live the dream for someone like me. Even though I am saying this now, I am currently freezing in a heat-less house with a king size duvet on my single bed in arctic Britain, therefore it may be a bit bias to worship warmer islands. But the grass is always greener. In actual fact I am a victim of sunburn on every single holiday I've ever taken. Without a doubt. All I have to do is step off of a plane onto foreign land where the sun actually passes the clouds and instantly I am red. A human tomato. And although it is painful at the time, I am still nostalgic for previous summers where lying on a chair swing reading was the height of activity.
As opposed to revision timetables and dehydrated fatigue.
G.
Image: my own
Image: my own
Around the same time every year I start to feel closed in. It's pre-exam season, I have stress-induced acne from my face to my shoulders to my back and the dry, harsh, frankly British climate is killing any last natural oils on my skin and hair. I am awaiting the "spring clean" motivation to get me out of this winter slump and into a well-oiled and organised machine. This is about the time where funnily enough I get an itch to escape. To jump on a plane and venture into the tropics where the weather compliments my freckles and rids me of my red undertone.
It may be that I've watched too many of the Kardashian (luxurious) "vacation" episodes recently, in order to postpone monotonous piles of revision, or maybe it is this odd month of March where the seasons are in limbo, but I need a holiday. So. Much.
I always wonder if those who live abroad in these hot, sunny climates often dream of venturing to our northern districts. Do they feel the pre-spring itch of longing for a getaway? If it were me I don't think I'd ever leave. To live a life in constant freckle season is to live the dream for someone like me. Even though I am saying this now, I am currently freezing in a heat-less house with a king size duvet on my single bed in arctic Britain, therefore it may be a bit bias to worship warmer islands. But the grass is always greener. In actual fact I am a victim of sunburn on every single holiday I've ever taken. Without a doubt. All I have to do is step off of a plane onto foreign land where the sun actually passes the clouds and instantly I am red. A human tomato. And although it is painful at the time, I am still nostalgic for previous summers where lying on a chair swing reading was the height of activity.
As opposed to revision timetables and dehydrated fatigue.
G.
Image: my own
Image: my own
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