Come back to me…

Hi, Internet.

I miss you too.

I know, honestly I do, but I can’t do anything about it. They cut the internet cable in the wall apparently.

You know I think about you all the time. 

Yes, I do! Of course I’m not just saying that!

I know I haven’t written anything on my blog in a while. I know, I know. Yes, you’re right.

Well ok, let me think. I guess I could write a quick one about what’s been happening since we last saw each other? Yeah? Ok.

It’s now six days before I finally go back to my Heimatsland and I couldn’t be more excited. The snow here is so deep and slushy, the cold so biting and the small children so hyperactive and hostile that my advents calendar has turned from a frivolous diversion into a countdown to freedom. Teaching for this long is taking its toll in a number of ways, in particular:
a) not to get too personal, but my body is protesting by starting to degrade and wear away like an old jumper; I am beginning to look like the picture of Dorian Gray right at the beginning where he hasn’t dived into the real debauchery yet but his portrait is still showing the first signs of sin.
b) I am sleeping the sleep of an old lady: restless, fidgety, uncomfortable and involving a lot of confused shuffling around the flat in the dark in the wee hours looking for things like books or a tissue.
c) for some reason, my current cold (a rather fine vintage I picked up from some high-grade primary school children) has evolved into what can only be described as chronic hiccups – they are oddly painful, loud, frequent and have been going on for three days now. WHY?


In other news, the black cat here was inadvisedly given milk yesterday and so spent the night filling the apartment with all kinds of foul liquid excrescences, in between leaping wildly at my bedroom door like a maniac and opening the fridge to chew at an old smoked sausage (presumably to give him something else to puke up). 


The moral of the whole story is this: well, there is no moral, but suffice it to say that I am now missing everyone and everything in the UK in probably pathetic quantities and I can’t wait to be there and not here. I think Berlin is subtly trying to tell me that it thinks we need to be apart from each other for a while and see other people, and much as it breaks my heart I think it’s right. 


Now time for me to have a shower – hopefully the bathtub has now been emptied of vomit.

Rose T