OK, so maybe Valentines Day wasn’t all bad. Or at least the end of Top B wasn’t. By which point you could argue it wasn’t actually Valenines Day any more, due to it being past midnight. So perhaps my cynical attitude to it all was spot on all along.
I think I did alright in the end. I managed to juggle the desire to drink with the need to not get too drunk (c.f. last Thursday), and I even kept up the pretence that boys are silly and not worth bothering with for a couple of hours. Well, almost. Then we went to dance and everything seemed better anyway.
That’s what I want to remember when I (eventually) leave Warwick. Because you can never have enough memories of dancing in the middle of a packed-out Marketplace with a bunch of friends, collectively fighting to hold onto the tiniest bit of space and yelling out the lyrics of various top-notch anthems at the tops of your voices.
So next time I’m fucked off about random things on a night out, somebody please drag me onto the dancefloor. Then I’ll be happy, I promise.