17:15 BST
IT Room, Bute
Cardiff, UK
Up at 6:45am. Back to bed. Reasoned with self that last night's fireworks and cold should be compensated for with a couple of hours of extra sleep. Will make day productive. Self got convinced easy-peasy. Slept for three more hours. Got up drowsier than before. Stretched. Did weights. Can feel the pain in the upper arms now. Good. Pain is good. Need more pain. Dressed up, had a sesame (yum) seed bagel with tea. Left for Bute. Rango soundtrack on repeat, self skipped to school. Sat at a computer. Stared at it. Emails, facebook stalking, news websites surfing. Real work began. Did little. Replied to an email recieved by friend. Assured her was NOT MIA. Just living. At 1pm, walked to a chainy Japanese restaurant for lunch with flatmate. Chicken Itame (coconut milk based steaming hot soup with loads of veggies and chunks of chicken. double yum.) was my dish of the day. Talked to flatmate about self's favourite topic - people - what, why, how. What do women refer to their boyfriends as, in front of their friends? What do men refer to their girlfriends as, in front of their friends? Awful things, apparently. References ranged from dog to whore :/ Why would you call the person you are dating such ugly things!? Watched people. Most looked sad. Probably because of the weather. Gloomy, grey, cold and wet. Or because it was their lunch hour from work. And work is NOT equal to fun, for most people. No statistics needed to prove that. Lunch followed by coffee and a a delicious little white chocolate-glazed-with-ginger-chilli-toffee-sauce cheescake. Need to eat it to believe such miracles are possible. Happy, warm and full - walked to library to borrow Cloud Atlas. Not available. Walked back to Bute, contemplating on getting hold of a sperm later on in life. Nurturing instincts need to be nurtured. Just a sperm needed. Not the container. Sat on computer, laughed at Murdoch's twitter trolls. Man going mental dissing Obama. He should play golf. Productive work happened. Now writing this. Swimming plans ditched for tha day. Bit miffed at that. Don't know what happens once self stops writing this post. Do not like predicting (aka planning) self's moves of the near future. Never work out. Till we meet again, tomorrow.
IT Room, Bute
Cardiff, UK
Up at 6:45am. Back to bed. Reasoned with self that last night's fireworks and cold should be compensated for with a couple of hours of extra sleep. Will make day productive. Self got convinced easy-peasy. Slept for three more hours. Got up drowsier than before. Stretched. Did weights. Can feel the pain in the upper arms now. Good. Pain is good. Need more pain. Dressed up, had a sesame (yum) seed bagel with tea. Left for Bute. Rango soundtrack on repeat, self skipped to school. Sat at a computer. Stared at it. Emails, facebook stalking, news websites surfing. Real work began. Did little. Replied to an email recieved by friend. Assured her was NOT MIA. Just living. At 1pm, walked to a chainy Japanese restaurant for lunch with flatmate. Chicken Itame (coconut milk based steaming hot soup with loads of veggies and chunks of chicken. double yum.) was my dish of the day. Talked to flatmate about self's favourite topic - people - what, why, how. What do women refer to their boyfriends as, in front of their friends? What do men refer to their girlfriends as, in front of their friends? Awful things, apparently. References ranged from dog to whore :/ Why would you call the person you are dating such ugly things!? Watched people. Most looked sad. Probably because of the weather. Gloomy, grey, cold and wet. Or because it was their lunch hour from work. And work is NOT equal to fun, for most people. No statistics needed to prove that. Lunch followed by coffee and a a delicious little white chocolate-glazed-with-ginger-chilli-toffee-sauce cheescake. Need to eat it to believe such miracles are possible. Happy, warm and full - walked to library to borrow Cloud Atlas. Not available. Walked back to Bute, contemplating on getting hold of a sperm later on in life. Nurturing instincts need to be nurtured. Just a sperm needed. Not the container. Sat on computer, laughed at Murdoch's twitter trolls. Man going mental dissing Obama. He should play golf. Productive work happened. Now writing this. Swimming plans ditched for tha day. Bit miffed at that. Don't know what happens once self stops writing this post. Do not like predicting (aka planning) self's moves of the near future. Never work out. Till we meet again, tomorrow.
