Friday, October 15, 2004

Rush Hour 3

The story of my life.

Although it's only been a day between this and my last blog, I feel as though time slowed down and I was caught in a brief suspension between this world and the world of yesterday - hazy memories floating like jellyfish, as though I've aged considerably since Wednesday (and in some ways, I have... by a day and a half) or cracked my skull too hard on my law books (as if) and am currently suffering from amnesia. It has been cold. Too cold. Francois happily announced to me that this winter shall be the coldest winter yet in a very long time and that it would start late October, missing autumn altogether. I think he needs to enhance his powers of observation as he asked me if I was cold whilst I was blue in the face, trying to don neon mittens, a jacket and a heavy winter coat while some people are still waltzing about in skimpy summer outfits - hey, it aint my skin that's gonna lose all sense of touch whe we're octogenarians.

Cold hands, cold feet and legs drapped in clashing coloured socks, all snug and warm with a hot water bottle under my jumper... that's what I like best about winter. If only I had a dog... or a cat.

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