I got back to my flat at midnight after being in Leeds with Chris. Now I'm propped up on top of my bed, warmish, leaning on a soft headboard that stops me from concussing myself. The curtains are slightly open and I'm listening to one of my favourite songs in the world, I Speak Because I Can, on my headphones. It's on repeat. I'm researching portable heaters and working on a poem I started last week. I'm thinking about how I want to visit my parents next week and brush my teeth for a long time. There's something very therapeutic about tooth brushing. That and automatic writing calm me when I'm not calm. I'm calm tonight. I have that eye-sting that used to only happen after a nightshift, but it's only 1am and it's happening. I've been sleeping a lot lately. Ready to hibernate, probably. I hated last winter. Most of my MA seminars were from 4-6 when it was dark. I used to find the darkness really comfortable and welcoming, but I just couldn't feel like that last year.

I'm not dreading the winter so much this year because I'm looking forward to seeing the river Humber in all different seasons. On Saturday I stood at the end of the pier and just watched the sky. To the left it was pale blue mixed with grey and some clouds which were just hovering and whisping- not really sure why they were there, I suppose. Straight ahead of me was a different blue mixed with a different grey, and a different set of clouds which were drifting there for a different reason. Then it became more and more windy. To the right was my favourite. Dark dark grey clouds which just looked on the verge of bursting. They were magnificent. I was saying to my dad that they looked so real that they looked like they were fake and made on a computer. Too polished, perfect and cloud-like. Then the wind carried on and the dark clouds to my right were suddenly almost in front of me.