It somehow got cold while I was in the tea shop, allegedly working on job applications, and then my bus was late and I was early, so I stood at the bus stop blowing steam up at the stars and forcibly preventing myself from shivering. I thought summer weather was supposed to last into September, but this summer has proven everyone wrong over and over. "People move here for the summers," I've been told over and over. "They visit in the summer and the weather is perfect and glorious and dry and then they move here and they are disappointed by the long, cloudy winters." I guess it's a good thing that I moved here in the winter, then, because I've been disappointed by the cold, cloudy summer. The weather was better in parts of February than it was today.
Riding the bus at night is very different from riding it during the day, and slightly unnerving. The lights are on in the bus and all you can see of the outside, unless you press your face to the window, are the lights on the houses. The windows are imperfect mirrors, and sometimes you can't tell from which side of the bus the lights you see are coming.
I arrived home too hungry to pick something to eat and wandered back and forth between stove and computer and sink and closet trying to focus long enough to just start something. In desperation, I finally made macaroni and cheese, the perfect late-night food in all its cheesy orange deliciousness. Then I ate three popsicles in quick succession because I bought them on the way home, three flavors of pomegranate plus other fruit and I had to try them all.
It's one a.m. and I'm not tired because I didn't get out of bed until 1:30 p.m. because I was sleeping off some sort of stomach issue. I think I poisoned myself accidentally, but I don't know what I poisoned myself with. Food of some sort? Food poisoning? I have eaten nothing strange, unless that Mexican mocha yesterday morning was contaminated. Anyway, I slept for a good 12 hours last night. This is a lot, even for me, the girl with the 10-hour-a-night ideal.
Riding the bus at night is very different from riding it during the day, and slightly unnerving. The lights are on in the bus and all you can see of the outside, unless you press your face to the window, are the lights on the houses. The windows are imperfect mirrors, and sometimes you can't tell from which side of the bus the lights you see are coming.
I arrived home too hungry to pick something to eat and wandered back and forth between stove and computer and sink and closet trying to focus long enough to just start something. In desperation, I finally made macaroni and cheese, the perfect late-night food in all its cheesy orange deliciousness. Then I ate three popsicles in quick succession because I bought them on the way home, three flavors of pomegranate plus other fruit and I had to try them all.
It's one a.m. and I'm not tired because I didn't get out of bed until 1:30 p.m. because I was sleeping off some sort of stomach issue. I think I poisoned myself accidentally, but I don't know what I poisoned myself with. Food of some sort? Food poisoning? I have eaten nothing strange, unless that Mexican mocha yesterday morning was contaminated. Anyway, I slept for a good 12 hours last night. This is a lot, even for me, the girl with the 10-hour-a-night ideal.
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