Slow start this morning. I realized I forgot to turn in that Milton paper last night (I wrote it ages ago), so I fell out of bed and sprinted upstairs. There was a stack still there--so I don't know if mine will be counted late or anything. Looks like I forgot another assignment for Austen--I've never hated a class so much, no math class in history.
Grumpy this morning. Slept through breakfast yet again. Nothing but more homework today--not to mention the last of the absurd Austen classes.
High Tea, Short Girl
Thinking of what I'll do when I come home. My first goal is to eat a hot breakfast. So sick of cereal every single morning for three months. Some eggs, please. Tea, even though it was at Kensington Palace, was uber boring. My boyish delicacies appeared with a vengeance--I gazed out of the window at the frozen pond and white fields, longing to leave the stuffy table. I sat with Kim, her sister, and Annie--they all talked about Andrea's coat, how it was a Burberry or something like that (six or seven hundred dollar coat), and argued about who was the richest on the program and whether or not to go see Lion King or Oliver. I told everyone about the clotted cream on the table: when whipping double cream, you have about four seconds between whipped cream and butter. The stuff on the table looked a lot like butter. No one had anything to say on THAT subject. I dropped out of the conversation after that, bored out of my mind and so excited to leave.
It's so nice to see Kim back on her feet, even if it is just in time for finals. She was sicker than a dog and I hoped I was able to be helpful to her somehow. Freezing cold out--it feels like wading through snow, except there is none...crazy cold, wind off the Baltic Sea. I hope no one falls and injures themselves on the utterly frozen ground. Never thought I'd feel concerned for dogs without sweaters. Go figure.
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