Well, fuck me.
This will be the second time I have written this entry.
My love monkey is ill. He has come down with a bug (that I am not yet completely over). He is currently taking another nap.
Today, after being prodded by an alarm that wasn't my own (and that sounded startlingly like a smoke detector) I ventured forth and went to the library. Libraries are wonderful repositories of words. Some of those words are printed on pieces of paper that are then bounded in volumes. And, mostly those words seem to be part of longer sequences known as "sentences". Some of these "sentences" were even of use today. My dissertation supervisor has gone to Africa. I promised him pages to read upon his return. More precisely he's gone some place in Nigeria, a plateau, where it rains at or around 1 p.m. every day. Or, maybe it was 11 a.m. Either way, it rains about the same time every day I thought, "That's incredible." Clearly, he thought so as well because we obviously discussed it. I have waited all day for it to rain here and all day I have been disappointed. Although, I suppose I shouldn't be disappointed because that means I didn't get wet on walks to and from the library. (Oh, and by the way, the new flat is so much closer to campus I would like to set fire to the description of the last place I lived that said, "walking distance to campus", which was so much a lie, as not really the full truth. It took me fifteen to walk to school today. It used to take me nearly half an hour.)
And while we're talking about the last place, I would just like to say I think I'm about to get hosed on the bond. Sure, the tap was broken, but it has been broken since january and I told her so four times. There comes a time in every woman's life where she just has to figure if the person owning the property isn't interested in fixing it, then its not really worth the hassle. Maybe I'm wrong about these things. But, whatever. I have to go cuddle an ill love monkey.
