I had to put myself into quarantine for a day last Sunday. Self-isolated until the dreaded ‘C’ word weighed less heavy on my soul. Yes, I suffered from watching a ‘Calamity’ as Italy whooped Wales’s butt. Oh, how I cringe when I recall every moment. Loss of smell? No! Loss of bowel movement? Yes. Loss of control of water works (tears)? Yes. Oh, the shame. No amount of meditation was going to fix this one. They were the better team though.
Always a consolation when England lose as well though. Those carts full of sugary treats they sing about were coming to carry them home from the outset.
Oh, I’m just joshing, it’s only a game, right? No, its fookin not, it’s what February and march each year make me happy it’s a Saturday. The feeling I use to get on a Friday after a shit week of school was Saturday morning kids tv. It’s the same with the rugby now.
Apart from getting into trouble with the rozzers with a hand gesture I made to them, the week has been a great one. I was this far off booking a flight to Barbados 10 days ago when the skies were dull grey cold and constantly pissing down on me. Then out of the dark came the sun to warm me and feed my body with vitamin D. I shall be putting the trip on hold and when the first hint of a long stint of iffy weather is reported I will be off.
Sorry, but its hot outside and the library is empty. All the proper students are in Bute Park drinking and playing Frisbee. I shall leave this post for now, find an appropriate photo to go with it and bugger off to the park to pen a bestselling novel.
Tara for now.