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So it turns out that having drunk enough "champagne" (not proper Champagne, of course, but sparkling white wine) to get a bit of a buzz on and then walking home in the cool (or cold) night air is remarkably evocative of grad school for me. I mean WOW. Only difference is that in Oxford I normally had further to walk, but the traffic was (a) different and (b) less. Otherwise: the nostalgia is up around 9.5 now, y'all.
(Oh, and one more difference, which is that my apartment is about ten times the size of my student room approx. and I'm not about to sign off and crawl into a twin bed.)
(Oh, and one more difference, which is that my apartment is about ten times the size of my student room approx. and I'm not about to sign off and crawl into a twin bed.)
