I am the Walrus

And I get my tan from sitting in the English rain. And it rained pretty much all day today, mostly wimpy drizzle with occasional spurts of genuine wetness. So, I kept my camera encased except for the one shot of myself writing this entry. . .dizzying self-referentiality. . .or narcissism. Tricia wants me to take a picture of myself in the gown, but my arms aren’t long enough.

I woke up at 4:30 this morning, probably could ‘ve, should’ve gone back to sleep. But I started to push papers around and actually got quite a bit done before going for my first bus trip to a visitors coffee sponsored by the University’s chaplain. It was an hour of very sweet conversations about bikes and biscuits.

Came back to my room and wrote for another two hours. Had soup for lunch (leek and potatoes, very British) and a bagel with cream cheese (not so much). Went back to Sainsbury’s for another load of supplies; this store is much better stocked than Punto, but its selection of patent medicines simply baffled me. I was looking for baby aspirin and couldn’t find any aspirin at all, though you can readily buy KY jelly by the quart. . .I don’t want to know.

Anyway, back to scribbling what I should be scribbling. Coo-coo-ca-choo

You are the Walrus.