I made a vow.

I spent too long - almost a year - navel gazing, studying every single aspect of my life to see if I could ever have done it differently. If I hadn’t screwed up my A-Levels and gone to DeMontfort where would I be now? Should I have gone to Sunderland University? or would life had been better if I went to college instead and got enough qualifications to get into a real university?

If I had followed my wants and dropped out of Sunderland after year one?

If I had not had that bottle though my window, and instead had stayed on for the full degree?

I could do this for weeks on end, and did. I ended up doing nothing for a year (hah, “Freelancing”).

Then, life improved. I got a Girlfriend, a life and a house, and I decided that pouring over my past mistakes wasn’t going to help. So long as I was aware that they were there, I could be happy that I at least made them. They lead me where I am, and that’s not too bad, is it?

Currently, it’s taking supreme efforts of will not to ignore this vow completely, since I no longer have a girlfriend and spend too much time commuting to have any real kind of life.

Depression beckons.