Back to the Smoke

Got back about an hour ago. Again, my time in Wales seems like a sort of hazy dream. It went well. The lecture was exceptionally well received. The students were good. The project was good. The weather was amazing. The only bad thing is I have bug bites and I HATE bug bites. But really, it was good. And now, now I'm back and wondering if I was really there, or if that was some other K and I am just a shadow of her memories... or the other way around.

I missed my office summer party, and have heard via the wonders of modern technology, mainly the mobile phone, that I missed one hell of a fucking party. Can't wait to see the few pictures, and there is an overdue lunch with T tomorrow to get all her juicy gossip, of which she has teased me by texting teasers, that there is very much to tell.

The weather is too hot for my liking and my skin is in a rash.

Hormones are raging and I find myself being particularly critical of my appearance- I suppose this started before I went to Wales, as evidenced by my last posting somewhat. I suppose it will pass eventually like most things. In the meantime, I am hating all things physical about myself at the moment and this always gets me down.

Am supposed to see Mr.Aloof some time this week- though for what I'm not sure. Perhaps not a play night, which though sad, is also practical (see comment re: hormones last paragraph). But I would really like to see him- self criticism notwithstanding.

Am not looking forward to going to work tomorrow, what else is new?

Here's a disgusting thought I had while I was away. If you ate exactly the same thing, at exactly the same times every single day, would eventually you start to shit like clockwork exactly as you were eating like clockwork? Obviously the amount of physical activity would influence this, but really, this has been a thought on my mind that's somewhat taken hold. I mean, why do people not crap as often as they eat? There's something seriously wrong there.

And now to ease your mind of disgusting thoughts, another thought I had this past week, is what is it about plastic bags that make them make noise? I mean, we all know they make noise, and actually, they can't NOT make noise, but where the fuck does the noise come from? How exactly does the folding of plastic create sound?

My mind. Always spinning.