Wednesday 13 March 2013

Dear Mickey...

The latest to add to my collection!
Yesterday, I received a postcard from my best friend who is studying in Alicante at the moment. This past year, I have absolutely loved receiving postcards! It's how I've kept up-to-date with how many of my friends are doing, and how I've kept in touch with them (although, this semester I have to admit I've been awful! I really need to buy stamps and get sending!) I have quite the collection now, with postcards from Alabama, Clermont-Ferrand, Granada, Paris, San Francisco, and my latest one from Alicante. The timing of this latest one was pretty darn perfect. 

On Monday, I wrote about the ridiculous list of things I had to work through before returning to the UK for Easter Break and how in that panic, my first thought was to check my blood sugar. I've spent so long trying to get back on track, the last thing I wanted was to get so stressed out with everything that I completely lose it again! I have spent enough of my semester here in Spain getting this sorted, and it's almost habit again! I really don't want to go back to the beginning yet again! 

Now, my best friend knows that I went through a particularly shitty time when I first got here; she came to visit me knowing it was what I needed, even if I didn't want to admit it; she always seems to know that something's wrong before I've even spoken to her. It's like a sixth sense! There is no way she could have known about Monday, as I didn't mention anything to her, and I'm pretty certain she doesn't know I'm writing again. I haven't told her I am, anyway. I don't know why, I just haven't. It's not that I don't want her to know, just that it hasn't come up.

Anyway, the postcard arrived yesterday. First of all, she addressed it "Dear Mickey" (thanks, Nem!), and this confused my flatmate a lot! She knocked on my bedroom door saying that she thought I had a postcard, but it was addressed to "Mickey" and not "Vicki". She then needed me to clarify what my name actually was, as she was worried my name was actually "Mickey" (again, thanks, Nem!). Mickey is an "inside joke", if you will, that started a long time ago and I haven't been able to shake the name since. At the end of the postcard, this was written:

P.S: I didn't want to write anything about the "D-word" but use this postcard to keep you on the straight. Love you, chica! x

Coincidence? Maybe. Superpowers? Likely. After years of knowing me, she now knows all of my little "tells"? Definitely. Even if I do hate how much she can read me sometimes! Either way, timing couldn't have been better!

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