I've been trying to blog here and everytime I think of doing it or feel I should the inspiration just vapourises and I start rambling about how it's spring now and I want to swim in a river. Yawn. I mean, seriously, that last one was just typing to fill a gap. What did I used to type about? Maybe I've exhausted my literacy. Possibly, it seems that I'm stuck when it comes to typing things for university too. Do you ever feel like you can't tell if you are stressed and have too much to do or just happily busy? I feel like I should be stressed. I don't know if I am and just have been for so many weeks that it feels normal now.
I had such a good sleep last night. There are a lot of people out there who love sleep, the kind of people who wake up at 11am for an early rise. The kind of people who wouldn't wake up if a train crashed into the side of their house. The kind of people you'd know and see sleeping when you stayed over at theirs and their smug sleep face and lack of stirring when you dunt some object in faux clumsiness to try and wake them up and save you from the awkward 'well, i'm in someone elses house with nothing to do' feeling in the morning. Well last night I can only assume was a sleep like they have every night, like the kind of sleep you could fall in love with, because what else would possess you to waste half your life greedily sleeping your day away til 2 in the afternoon? It was good though, it was blowing an absolute gale out last night - infact I looked out at the back court today and noticed that our table had managed to move about 5 feet to the left from where it stands. The building that's going up across the road from us has scaffolding all around it right now and they had covered the scaffolding in this white fabricy-tarp type stuff almost like thick netting. Anyway this stuff is tied to the scaffold in a way that gusts of wind blow against it and through it and it becomes like parachutes. They all ripped through the wind yesterday and broke off into ribbon strips flapping wildly and all last night you could here the twack flap smack noises of it spanking the side of the scaffold like a maniac with a wet towel. It kept Stuart up, yet it made me sleep better. Much like playing on a rug as a raft in an ocean when I was young, I like the feeling of braving it against the elements - only when it's not actually braving it but being all wrapped up warm in the house when crazy weather is happening outside. I got this big waffle type white bed spread to put on top of the duvet on the bed so I was in there with Stuart and a hotwater bottle and and pillows and it was totally warm yet the room was cool due to it being like 2 degrees out. I kept waking up in the night but not in the annoying toss and turn way but in the mmmmmmmmmmmm sleeepysleep way where you curl from a comfy position into a new fresh and even more cosy one over and over. This almost never happens for me so I felt like I needed to bore anyone reading this to death with these details.
Tonight Stuart is out to rehearsal and I'm in with the kitchicks. Mais is beside me now rubbing her chin against my right hand as I type. She's sucking up because she scratched Molly's eye earlier and got told off a lot. I'm now going to have one of those wonderful evenings where you have a bath and watch the tv shows you only watch when there's no man in the house (One Tree Hill). I'm going to make a pear facemask and then I might read in bed and maybe even paint my nails or something similarly girly. I feel I need to max out my one evening when I'm not totally busy by doing trivial things. Going to Edinburgh again tomorrow for National Archives, I complement these visits to archives with visits to fudge shops to sweeten the deal.