I’m living my own yuppietwentysomething college student dreamscape this morning, without actually planning it that way (which I suppose is the anti-yuppie experience).

It’s Saturday. I got up at 7 this morning to put the finishing touches on my Marvell essay due today (yes, I have tutorials on Saturday this term, a little painful). It’s a true English morning – solid dark grey cloud cover that would be sinister at home, but here is just the flamboyant sky’s attempt at severity. There is a constant patter of rain, though I have noticed the rain is heavier in the Springtime compared to the Fall/Winter ‘spit’.

The water doesn’t get the finches down, though. They’re chirping away for better or worse. I’m in the dining room sipping my fancy sounding Lavazza coffee. I finished my essay, now I’m listening to some anonymous classical music on BBC Radio 3. My musical analysis: distinctly Saturday morning tooting horns. A Panera soundtrack, if you will.

I could certainly be faulted on the fact that my favorite travel/living abroad moments are the ones in which I’m doing nothing. But it’s that way everywhere I go. But, it’s kind of like passion versus love; the passion of foreign attractions and sights is great for a while, but it can’t really be sustained. The true measure of a foreign locale is how good the doing nothing is.

This is pretty good. Yep. I could do nothing in England.


~ by miyagisan on May 7, 2011.

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