It is 3.30 am. I have been doing some reading: it’s Angela Carter’s Wise Children.
I slept a bit this afternoon, which in itself is quite miraculous, given that I very, very rarely get to sleep during the day; however, now that I’ve done it (and dreamt strange dreams), I’m not at all sleepy. I just finished uploading a few random pics from my hard disk to my photo account thingy.
Next book on the list: Edith Wharton: The House of Mirth. Somehow, the prospect doesn’t make me laugh too much.
It’s been a long while since I’ve bought any books for myself. Will have to make a tour in the city bookshops. I have a few SF titles to verify and look up. Will do so this week, then, before Friday.
Yesterday night, I watched Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon again. The enjoyment I had felt when viewing it the first time hadn’t faded: in fact, it was renewed and refreshed. I have got The Green Mile to watch, but need to take out some time to do that. It’s strange – we were discussing that in class the other day – how a postgraduate has no fixed time-table, yet, at the same time, the amount of restraint and control you put in your management of time can sometimes constrain one’s other activities.
This is one of my companions in my exile…He comforts me no end..