Seventeenth of the Eleventh and a week

Looks like my trip has been extended till the 9^th of December. I'm not happy about this. It's starting to snow elsewhere in England, only a matter of time before it hits London.

Let's see, in the lsat week, I've had to work, worked and then worked some more. Saturday I was sick and still had to work, Sunday I went to see my cousin Donja and her new family. Amazing what can happen in 5 years :)

Some of you know just how much I detest contracting to this company, well, I had to chuckle at the following. Their head office is near Slough in a place called Egham. Slough is reknowned for its terrible attitude. On the BBC, they're running an experimental TV program called: "Making Slough happy". I don't think that'll help this shit company :D

On the emotional front, I got an excellent interpretation for the last dream I posted. And subsequently had another hectic dream, which I might post later.

Tuesday presented an excellent opportunity to do some ad-hoc writing, so please, pull up a seat and tell me what you think...

Sitting in a laundrette, reading my book which is open on a chapter titled "Happiness". Trying to balance a chocolate brownie and the book, totally cosumed by the book while I consume the brownie, totally. Bits of brownie spill on the pages below, rich chocolate brownie bits. My mouth pitiful for the missing pieces now strewn and smudged on the pages. The smudges have somehow avoided the text as most of the crumbs descended into the valley created by the pages. That's what it is, a fold between mountains, a fertile valley slit in two by an angry river. In the next valley, a new story is waiting to unfold.

The windows to the laundry are all steamed up, the dryers are running at full tilt after being industriously loaded by the resident physiotherapist. A man of small stature. A man with a smile and outlook to balance how he is perceived on the outside. He has a pseudo-Italian accent, it reeks of English abuse, maybe even colonialisation.

The hum of the dryers is soothing to the inmates, that is except when the loose change and plastic buttons don't knock against the glass windows. No silk shirts or expensive trousers here, this laundry is a place of worship to the meek. Tokens of gratitude will have to amuse the gods for another few minutes, the gods reacting with brewing thunderstorms and they're cleansing rain.

A cycle of life within this 25 square meter establishment. In go the vital ingredients for its existence, out goes the byproduct. The entire process bringing a sense of accomplishment to all.

Didn't finish so well, but it was still a good feeling to write it.