More procrastinating

Yesterday after too many hours of writing notes, I was feeling very cold and assumed it was from the ridiculous airconditioning. As I walked out into the brisk early Autumn evening I realised that it was only slightly warmer outside but that I was still very very cold. It wasn't until I found myself walking in the bright sunshine towards the bougainvillea path that I realised that the cold was not from the air, but from within.

Somewhere in the midst of reviewing cuboidal epithelium and stromal changes at puberty I had had a bit of a crash. I have no idea where it came from, or why it was there. I had been studying well, I had gone to my ethical tutorial and participated, I was having friendly email interaction with friends, but somehow, it all crashed. I looked up at the big low heavy sun and wondered why it wasn't warming me. I walked through gardens and amongst trees that normally make me happy if not revealing the Gleam. But I was just a big ball of cold and despair.

So I did something I haven't done in years, and boarded one of the tiny ferries that meander up and down the river, and climbed up the stairs to sit on a hard wooden bench with an incredible view of the city and the sunset. I let the cool autumnal breeze wash over me and marvelled at the golden light on the satiny river, and the glinting buildings. I studiously ignored the couple on the bench in front and to the right of me, her snuggled into him against the chill and both of them with dancing eyes and focused instead on the beautiful scenery trundling by. I didn't even notice as the sky changed to twilight and the first stars of the night twinkled in the ebon sky. Until suddenly I realised that I was the only passenger on the boat, standing at the bow with the wind ruffling my hair, and that it was long past the time that I should have been home.

I loved the solitude but I felt so horribly lonely. So I went home. You never asked where I'd been and I never told you.