I woke up this morning so stiff I couldn’t walk straight. I’m not sure how I was sleeping, but it must’ve been some seriously weird way.
Several interesting things occurred to me during the day, almost all of which I have since forgotten. One that I didn’t forget was the various patron saints I was familiar with during childhood. St Blaise, the patron saint of sore throats. St Jude, hopeless cases. St Anthony, lost things. St Bridget, livestock. St Christopher, travellers. St Nicholas, children. St Patrick, the Irish. St Cecilia, music. St Francis of Assissi, animals.
Creme de Mer is my favourite cosmetic ever. I’ve no idea what the actual product is like, but anywhere it’s sold, I just love being. Why? They have the most fabulous tropical aquaria – Brown Thomas, Harvey Nich’s, even the airport. Beautiful, brightly coloured, tropical creatures, in UV-/blacklight- lit aquaria, with wonderful exotic plants. Nemos, and seahorses, and black Nemos, and myriad wonders. I want one (a Creme de Mer aquarium, you understand, although any myriad wonder would probably do). Please?
I’ve jumped another hour forward, I’m tired and slightly sweltering. It’s a lot warmer here than I expected, although there were still huge mounds of dirty snow out at the airport – old stuff that hasn’t melted yet.
I remembered what I had forgotten as I was on the UBahn on the way back to my place, from Marienplatz – the VGA converter for my iBook. Bother. Yuck. Hassle. Should be ok though, I’ll work out something.
Once again, I’m nervous and stressed about college. Hopefully things will seem more do-able tomorrow, when it’s bright. It was twilight when I was leaving the airport, and well dark by the time I got to Olympiazentrum.
I really don’t like flying. All the hanging around, all the restrictions, all the hassle. Give me a train, any day, and I don’t care if it takes many, many times as long. Let me get on when I arrive at the station and be gone again in ten minutes. Let me bring what I want with me, do what I want while I’m travelling, and have my stuff with me when I get off.
Unusually, when I was going through security in Dublin Airport, they didn’t make me take off my shoes. They didn’t make me do it when I was going to New York either, but I think they just missed me by accident that time. This time, they weren’t making anyone do it. They still have the signs up about how the mats are regularly disinfected though, so it may come back. Who knows.
I’m tired now, and so stiff that I can’t actually walk properly at all anymore. So I’m going to bed. Yay bed.