I've held onto the extra British pounds I brought home from my last trip. I always thought I'd be returning. Now I know my adventurous, solo-traveling days were in my thirties. Firmly in the grasp of the forties, I'm MUCH older, responsible (helped along by the fact that those travels added to the credit card debt I'm chipping away at), and disillusioned. So, I went to the bank and exchanged the pounds for dollars.
It's strange that 85 pounds symbolized romance and happiness. All this means is that I've accepted that I'm not going to find some amazing man to live happily ever after with. It doesn't mean that
I'm going to start acting 'normal'! I'll still keep a sword in the umbrella stand and a bobby's helmet by my desk and avoid facebook as much as possible.
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