You get used to the long hauls up and down the hill. You get used to the 9 o’clock ultimatums, morning or nightfall, set by nearly every establishment that is not a bar. With every passing day, living in Armagh becomes more and more natural. Now that the severe burden of writing and editing is off my shoulders, I find myself cozied up in my bed despite it being mostly taken up by my backpack, luggage, and other whatnot, lounging in the quiet room of the youth hostel, enjoying myself without doing anything. Some people don’t appreciate doing nothing all day. Coming from a town where, as certified by Billy Joel, there’s not much to do, Armagh isn’t a town of excitement. It’s a town of unwinding.