Dot in the Sky (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dotinthesky) wrote2004-08-29 10:44 pm
dotinthesky) wrote2004-08-29 10:44 pm
The Temp Enjoys His Sunday
I woke up around 9 o'clock. My body was sore and I tried to do some yoga stretches on the bed. Kevin asked me to rub his back so I did it but with one condition: that I can call him Nevin from now on. I then got up and went to the kitchen. There were some leftover dishes from yesterday so I washed them and made some coffee and tea.
After breakfast, I lay on the couch and watched two episodes of House Doctor. I was about to embark on my third one when sense returned to my body and I went to the bedroom. I got changed (but retained the t-shirt and underwear I slept in) for going to the walk-in clinic. Kevin pointed out that it wasn't very nice of me to go to the doctors without taking a shower. Grumpily, I went to the bathroom and washed myself.
I borrowed a pound from Kevin and took the number 6 bus downtown. I sat behind some loud Portuguese people who smelled really bad. The woman was in her early forties, with long scraggly hair turning white and a bitter resonance to her voice. I got off the bus in front of John Lewis Department Store. As usual, I was struck by the general ugliness of all those people walking up and down Oxford Street. I quickly made my way to Grant & Cutler Bookstore, where I bought myself a french copy of Kundera's Identity.
The nurses in the walk-in clinic had nothing useful to say about my cough. They told me to steam my lungs 6 times a day, drink lots of fluids, sign up with a General Practitioner and have my lungs x-rayed if the cough persists after two weeks. I then scoured the bookshops on Charing Cross Road for a good scary novel but didn't find anything. My stomach betrayed me and I ended up eating cowhooves burger in Burger King. Feeling slightly chipper, I then had my head chopped off at Mr. Cutters for the nice price of 7 pounds. My executioner was from Russia and she had nice warm breasts.
I ended my afternoon by perusing more bookshops and deciding upon nothing. God damn Librian! The bus home was uneventful. I arrived home to find the apartment in a peaceful setting. I promptly called Kevin and his sisters a family of monkeys, made myself a cup of tea, and played some Gamecube.
For dinner, I made a pasta dish while listening to my Cheesy Mix. For digestion, I watched Midsomer Murders. Now, close to bedtime, I'm going to read selected Livejournals, then read my current novel The Secret History. I will then brush my teeth, lie under the duvet covers and have sweet dreams with some celebrity or other.
After breakfast, I lay on the couch and watched two episodes of House Doctor. I was about to embark on my third one when sense returned to my body and I went to the bedroom. I got changed (but retained the t-shirt and underwear I slept in) for going to the walk-in clinic. Kevin pointed out that it wasn't very nice of me to go to the doctors without taking a shower. Grumpily, I went to the bathroom and washed myself.
I borrowed a pound from Kevin and took the number 6 bus downtown. I sat behind some loud Portuguese people who smelled really bad. The woman was in her early forties, with long scraggly hair turning white and a bitter resonance to her voice. I got off the bus in front of John Lewis Department Store. As usual, I was struck by the general ugliness of all those people walking up and down Oxford Street. I quickly made my way to Grant & Cutler Bookstore, where I bought myself a french copy of Kundera's Identity.
The nurses in the walk-in clinic had nothing useful to say about my cough. They told me to steam my lungs 6 times a day, drink lots of fluids, sign up with a General Practitioner and have my lungs x-rayed if the cough persists after two weeks. I then scoured the bookshops on Charing Cross Road for a good scary novel but didn't find anything. My stomach betrayed me and I ended up eating cowhooves burger in Burger King. Feeling slightly chipper, I then had my head chopped off at Mr. Cutters for the nice price of 7 pounds. My executioner was from Russia and she had nice warm breasts.
I ended my afternoon by perusing more bookshops and deciding upon nothing. God damn Librian! The bus home was uneventful. I arrived home to find the apartment in a peaceful setting. I promptly called Kevin and his sisters a family of monkeys, made myself a cup of tea, and played some Gamecube.
For dinner, I made a pasta dish while listening to my Cheesy Mix. For digestion, I watched Midsomer Murders. Now, close to bedtime, I'm going to read selected Livejournals, then read my current novel The Secret History. I will then brush my teeth, lie under the duvet covers and have sweet dreams with some celebrity or other.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject