I had a dream last night that I was bicycling around a park with this 13 year old boy. The park was off Fred Waring Drive, just before or just after the wash - I can't remember exactly. I fell alot, and tried to explain to the boy that I hadn't been on a bike for more than a few seconds since I was thirteen. I kept using the hand-brake whenever I wanted to accelerate, as though confused with the ways of motorcycles. Strangely, no doubt because it was a dream, sometimes the hand-brake would help me accelerate.

None of this tells you anything about my life, of course. Mostly because it's been the same old thing as it has been for the last two months:
1. get up at an embarassingly late hour; eat some amazing cereal and drink coffee in my room while checking email and... oh my goodness, i just discovered the weirdest blister on my toe. Gotta go figure out what to do with it...



false alarm. It was one of Flatmate Jess's contacts stuck to my foot. No wonder the 'blister' was so remarkably round, shiney, and tinted of blue. No wonder I could not recall how or when it had been acquired. Yes, this is what I do with my days.
2. after breakfast and some scuttling about on the internet, I open up my word documents - the ones with all my notes in disarray - and set about putting them in some kind of order. I write a bit here and there, realize that I am not incorporating the massive quantity of quotations and references in my writing, try to correct that, forget, go off on tangents, cut the whole thing and place it in a separate document of useless but undeletable fragments, hear Flatmate Jess leaving her room, prop my door, pretend to work while chatting with her across the hall, create a new playlist on iTunes.
3. make dinner (because breakfast was too late in the day to allow for lunch) for at least an hour - even if it's just chicken nuggets, turn on the news to catch up on the flood levels in western England, go back to my room and look up clips of favorite tv shows or random interviews online - trying to avoid the tacky music montages, check my email
4. chat with emily for about three hours
5. watch a movie with flatmate(s)
6. check email several more times, say goodnight to everyone, close my door, curl up in bed with my laptop, and google myself to sleep

What a dreary existence. I don't think I should admit to it publicly. There are exceptions, such as today, when I update my blog, put on real clothes, and go to the library to pay off my now astronomical fines. Or yesterday, when I went to the shop on the King's Buildings campus to buy milk and orange juice. Sometimes I bring my notes to Blackford Lounge and sort through them over bad cappuccino and cheesy campus-decor. There are all sorts of ways to spice up one's life, and I take advantage of them all! Sometimes...