Swings and roundabouts

Old Man Time is playing with me.  My initial fear about moving back to Belfast was that I would find myself trapped in the same old, same old.  This obviously was noted by the powers that be, the gods of Fate.  And not without a dry swipe of humour as well.

Once again, as was the case 5 years ago, HMV has become somewhat of an organ of social contact for me.  Whilst unintentional, a lot of my friends [still] work there.  Its not quite my heart of social contact, but for it to feature is amusing.  I am back living at home, albeit temporarily with far better prospects, but nonetheless, same as five years ago.  And the cherry on the cake is the fact that I am totally crushing on my five year ago crush again, although, again, this time with far better prospects (as in, he actually speaks to me now).  Weird. 

Thankfully, all this could be depressing as hell, but its not really.  It all had matured and moved on.  Its like a different play being performed with the same set.