Woke up. Fired up computer. Checked email, LJ, feeds (priorities, y’know). Fumbled in the dark for some clothes. Put them on. Coughed and spluttered a bit because my entire respiratory system is mumbling mutinously. Staggered to bathroom. Brushed teeth. Wandered into kitchen. Put kettle on. Noticed large unfamiliar man sleeping on sofa.
I’m somewhat surprised at how little that disturbed me.
Shortly afterwards, the doorbell rang and a couple of blokes in blue overalls tested our fire alarm. Apparently the kind of alarm we have here can be reset by holding a magnet to the top right-hand corner. Hope I will never find a use for this bit of information. Really like all the university actual-physical-work types, as they match perfectly the stereotype of the cheery, competent workman. Still, seeing altogether too many of them.
I am a little worried that I have got no mail so far (the University postal service offers many disparate and confused promises), but have hoarsely requested from parents the bottle of Covonia (Satan’s own cough syrup, makes your throat its bitch) that was in my room. I am getting rather tired of my forty-eight-hour practical in Phlegm Studies.
Selected my Module Outside the Main Discipline. The choice between the vast and diverse selection of interesting modules was aided somewhat by the many, many clashes with the War Studies timetable. In the end, I made my first choice Analysing Everyday Texts, because a better understanding of writing can’t fail to help in either course or life, and as my second choice Mandarin Chinese, because Mandarin Chinese.
Then I got back on my bike and cycled home and went back to bed and felt sick and haven’t come out again because important breathing-related parts of my body are now in open rebellion. Urgh. Nothing important is happening until Monday, which is good, because freshers’ flu has me firmly in its horrible sticky clutches.