Today I woke up and the sky was clear. My sheets were comfortably crumpled, the sort of mess that welcomes and says 'inhabited by a human, imperfect, with skin scent and body indent, like you'.
I did a few handstands because it was that kind of day.
The cycle back from lectures today was more eventful than usual. Whenever the sun is out, people emerge too, and so the streets were crowded and Becky rang her bell furiously as we navigated the crowds. There were a number of close shaves. The continual pinging of the bell struck me as immensely funny for some reason and I kept grinning to myself as I cycled along behind her.
As we went past Sainsburys, I heard the beautiful strident notes of a trumpet, and looked to my left to see a busker, his eyes twinkling, staring right back at me as he played a song on his trumpet. We both smiled, a silent 'thank you' exchanged, me for his music and him for me noticing.
Becky and I stopped a little while after that, realising that Rosa, who'd been behind us when we left, had disappeared. As we scanned the crowds for her, suddenly we hear 'Stop!' and saw a man in a black jacket, clutching a bag, running, with the shouter, in a blue jacket, running after him. We looked at each other - a snatch theft! Right in front of us! Blue jacket got his bag back, but we saw no sign of black jacket after that.
After lunch I went to get my faulty laptop checked out by the IT support team. Apparently it's a hard disk problem, which explains the strange clicking noise it's been making. Bummer. The next couple of hours progressed from trying to fix it, with the help of Dad, to calling the Lenovo help desk to see if they could fix it and discovering that would mean sending the laptop to Germany which would take at least a month, to settling into a state of mourning for my laptop.
I went for a run, just a short one because my calves are sore, but long enough to release head tension.
My amazon package of coconut sugar and 'The Waves' arrived, which brightened things up a little, and has a quote that describes how I feel some of the time:
'I am the foam that sweeps and fills the uttermost rims of the rocks with whiteness; I am also a girl, here in this room.'
Other times I feel a bit like a wet piece of wool but that is besides the point.
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