Oh man, I am so bored. On Thursday I kind of collapsed at school and then had the journey from hell trying to get home, what with London having fallen in on itself in the wind. #1 made me some lemsip and I stayed up to watch the 10 o'clock news, then went to bed with a hot water bottle. Then I slept until about 5pm today, only waking up to take ibuprofen and to try and actually breathe. Flu is nasty.
Today I have been up and about a little. I went to Sainsbury's to buy the Guardian because they had whale stickers - yay. Watched a film. I tried to smoke a cigarette. I pondered the dream I'd had about a boy I probably shouldn't have been dreaming about, but why did I not realise how cute he was before? I also had a dream about the Pope so I guess I shouldn't read too much into my dreams.
You know those boxes of wine you can get? On Saturday night I stayed in and drank one of those by myself (2 litres, yes). I was remarkably productive and installed some stuff on my computer, had a mass cull of all the music I own but despise, and sorted out 3 drawers worth of junk I'd been carrying around. Then I was sick, really really violently sick, though I'm a seasoned drinker so I made it to the bathroom for that one. Result.
On Sunday/Monday the ongoing text drama continued with him saying "it was a joke" and "I like you" and me asking the girls on my course (who are great, by the way) what I should do, and in the end sitting in the SCR slagging off men.
I went to the ballet. Not the racist ballet (the ENB), I saw the Royal Ballet doing La Sylphide. It was awesome (but I suck at writing about ballet, so maybe I'll attempt it when I feel more well). In the interval, I was practising some hanzi and the man sat next to me asked what I was writing, and I told him it was a critical essay about some Tang dynasty poems. He was very impressed. As I would be if there was even a chance in HELL of me being able to write anything more than the juvenile scribblings I'm currently capable of.
On Tuesday I laughed a lot at my ineptitude, then went to my anthropology class where I sat on the floor and gazed adoringly at my new favourite teacher (he's so cool). Then this woman said the most stupid thing and I involuntarily had a sort of head-desk moment. P has since informed me that EVERYONE noticed, even the people who couldn't actually see me. Look, did I say I had social graces? No, so don't FLAY me for it.
G came to visit and he laughed at my poor taste in men (specifically, he informed me that the boy I maintain is truly beautiful is "nothing special"), and we had a lovely time not really doing very much. The others came home from work the next day and announced that we looked very loved up, and I guess we felt like that a bit cos he nearly missed his train cos we were kissing. Only real bad point was when we were play fighting and my hips got stuck. He said that he would still come and visit even if I was a cripple. Cos I'd still be able to have sex. I asked if he'd still see me even if I couldn't have sex, and he said he would. It's all very sweet, though really, it's meaningless.
I have decided I like computers. I think I would like to know more about computers if only so I could pretend I was clever when in fact I have come SOOOOOO close to stapling my ID card in the stupid automatic stapler thing.
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