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Weather & faff - shadows of echoes of memories of songs
j4
j4
Weather & faff
So I was sitting in the office just before lunchtime, planning to use my lunchbreak to nip to Oxfam, price my books, buy a sandwich, and wander back again. Yawning copiously, I wondered why I was so tired, going through the possible cures again in my mind: "Definitely need earlier nights... probably need less caffeine... maybe need to keep the room a bit cooler... mind you I had the window open last night & that didn't help much..."

Window. Open. Last night. FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK.

I ran out of the office, jumped on the bike and cycled home as fast as possible, imagining the house ransacked (not that it'd show in my room, burglars would probably look through the window at the mess & assume it'd been done already) and all kinds of horrible things. Fortunately everything was okay, so I locked the window, and then dashed back into town. By this time I was sweating and breathless, it was boiling hot and humid, just the right day for a lazy wander around town but just the wrong day for a frenetic dash home and back.

Of course then I still had to go to Oxfam. Priced my books, got into an argument with yet another bloody person who isn't willing to actually price the computing books but is quite happy to criticise everything I do, ended up rescuing a stack of useless old computing books ... and then Roger told me that the books I'd asked his friend for had come in.

See, this friend (a lot of Roger's friends pop in and talk to him while I'm there volunteering) had said that he had a box of Saint books and Bond books in the loft. "Coo," I said. "I'll sell you my duplicates at a pound apiece, if you like," he said. "Neat," I said. "I'll leave them with Roger some time," he said. "Great," I said, & assumed that "some time" would never actually happen. So I was somewhat overwhelmed to see the two supermarket carrier bags full of books waiting for me... I ended up leaving a cheque for 25 quid for about 30 books, all 50s/60s paperbacks, which I thought was pretty reasonable for a load of books which I would have bought in the end anyway & would have been happy to pay a quid for if I'd seen them in carboots/charity-shops etc.

Of course then I had to get them, and all the computer books, back to work on the bike. Cycled furiously back carrying nearly my own body weight in books, having dashed into Sainsburys first to actually get some bloody lunch. By the time I got back to the office I was totally worn out but bizarrely the headache I'd had on and off since the morning seemed to have gone. Maybe I just needed a bit of fresh air. Not that you'd find much of that when it's about 95% humidity.

Fortunately the storms outside seem to be clearing the air.

And despite being worn out from all the cycling, I still managed to race Nicola to the top of the stairs in the University Centre. :-)
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Comments
hairyears From: hairyears Date: August 20th, 2004 11:21 am (UTC) (Link)

I still managed to race Nicola to the top of the stairs in the University Centre.

Are you smiling because you're fitter, or because of the view?

Said Nile, who sleeps directly underneath the Storm Track. Thunderstorms raised by the thermals over hot, sweaty central London track northwards up the Lea Valley on their way to rain on the righteous in Cambridge.

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