I’m really not a big fan of those days where you wake up and you don’t know what day it is and then you remember it’s Monday and you have to get up. I think that all the days should have to be very upfront with their expectations of you, and tell you straight away what time you have to get up and how much time you have before you have to get out of the house. It’s especially confusing when you wake up in the middle of a dream, and think that it’s still going. Nobody should have to be that confused.
Anyway, once I broke out of my confusion (is that the right thing to do to confusion?), I got up and ready and made my way off to the gym. I’ve been feeling a bit unwell lately, so it felt about three times harder than normal (because effort can totally be quantified like that) and sweated about ten times as much. However, I managed to get through it, thanks to my handy dandy ipod (which, obligingly, managed not to run out of power in the one hour I used it). I also went to Yoga, where we were made to hold very uncomfortable positions for extended periods of time (for example, lying on the ground with a wooden block the size of a large brick between the floor and your back) while (even worse) having to listen to crap about energy centres and the such. But it’s a good stretch, and it makes you feel calm afterwards.
One potato naan bread later, I was at my Policy lecture, which was delivered by an adviser to some state minister you’ve never heard of. Riveting stuff, hearing him talk about his failed efforts to get news coverage for some policy initiative. And then there was that awkward thirty or so seconds of silence when he asked if there were any questions, before somebody came up with something to ask. Ah, poor fellow. It was a bit of a relief when I left early to catch my train. Home (via the laneway in Today’s Photo) and tutoring and dinner and study and cake and now I’m looking through old photos. They’re the bomb. Can’t wait for the photos I take now to become “old” and the subject of fascination.