Has it been a month since I last wrote anything here?
Oh, no, of course not. About a month and a few days spare, actually. What gives? Nothing really. In the heady days of my PhD I could afford to write more, because I was in front of the computer more. I don’t think I had a cut off point when it came to working (and inherent in that, being online). Work began the minute I woke up, and ended the second I fell asleep. Repeat, loop = infinite.
These days I put in about 8 hours at work, and when I get home at a little before 1900, instead of switching on the computer again, I put my feet up and either pay Al-Mualim a visit or finish a chapter of whatever it is I am reading. I must admit, this is quite the life. Even if the blog suffers somewhat.
It’s not really a blog anymore if it’s only updated monthly, is it? Ah well. Suddenly all this reminds me of my journal, which I wrote in religiously as an undergraduate, and then died a natural death as work took over (and then blogging). Clearly I suck at following through.
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I am in Cardiff for the better part of this week; work beckons, although not without its small pleasures. One of which is taking the train up!
A limited Sunday service ex-Colchester allowed me to use the day before to catch up with one of my high school seniors; an ally of sorts in the world of us running away. When Norzu catches up with London in a few months, I hope to spend a similar time. The bus I took from Islington to Paddington went past Sussex Gardens, which in itself holds memories of a simpler time. Or maybe not; perhaps it is just romance that is making me feel it was a simpler time. Between then and now, I know life has taken a simpler existence in its current form.
An old friend from my Uniten days picked me up from Cardiff Central and we went to Cardiff Bay for a ‘shooting’ session. I have not really kept in touch with those who served time with me there less than a decade ago, but I still hold firm to ties bonded two decades ago. I suppose two years seem to hold enough angst for a decade’s worth of dispelling, although it was no fault of my colleagues; rather it was because of them that I survived, I suppose. The weather forecasted rain, but the sun stayed out until it was time for me to check in at the hotel, and raindrops began falling in heavy pelts when he dropped off.
It was still raining when I left the hotel for a quick breather – armed with a map from the Tourist Info center and a general indication as to where Cineworld was, I caught Kick-Ass, all the time seething with envy at Sam Taylor-Wood for bagging that gorgeous specimen of an Aaron Johnson. *Sigh* If it ever shows wherever you’re at, I implore you to go catch this movie, for the rock-and-roll fun that is its 117 minutes. This is probably the only movie where Nicolas Cage did not such. This is saying a lot because he normally sucks. But in this movie, he actually speaks! No, not mumbles, but SPEAKS!!!!
It still rained when I headed back to the hotel, and from what little I have seen of this city I already quite like it. Maybe the rain is making me biased. I love rain. Maybe I should move to Seattle. Or Taiping.