A Day of Relaxation

I have what I suppose some people refer to as a head cold, although it was much worse this afternoon when I journeyed from my room to the university. My head was stuffed with cotton balls and I could not be bothered to contribute much to the group meeting, except when there was a very serious flaw which they did not see themselves. Such a strenuous effort left me tired and lifeless and my journey back home was much welcomed.

It is 9:30pm and I have finished the allotted reading for today and there is no one about. There are three boys in the kitchen but I feel awkward sitting there listening to them talk amongst themselves though I long for company rather than the solace of my room, and yet I have retreated after a slice of toast and peanut butter and a cup of hot water and honey. Now I sit here typing away on this blog which has been much abused by little attention.

There is so much reading to be done but because of my cold I have told myself to rest and do as much as I can without over exhausting myself, which seems to have helped because I have used 1/10 the amount of tissues today that I used yesterday, which I am sure my tissueless tissuebox is happy about.

Tomorrow or Sunday I will be venturing the city with some friends and hopefully we will go to the Cathedral, which is beautiful, and maybe end the day at a nice pub and have a pint or two and order some delicious food. Although this brings to mind all of my expenses which seems rather a lot since I have been here even though I have received an email from my father telling me to not worry about expenses, and yet that is easier said and done as I am paying almost everything out of pocket and wish to leave some money for after I return back to the States.

I have just realized that by reading so much 19c. literature my writing is tending to mimic it, which is rather unfortunate because it is a most longwinded way of writing and speaking. I hope that my normal style returns to me soon because I do need to write a dissertation and I do not want it to be in this overdramatic unenduring form.

Good Night, Norwich. I will see you when I look out my window.


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