In the library, at 6.30 am, is the wrong place, and definitely the wrong time. Really, it is bed time, well almost getting up time actually…getting up time should be preceded by lots of hours sleep, it’s getting-up-out-of-bed time, not getting-up-off-your-rolly-chair in the library time. It’s all the wrong way up.
Being in the library at night time though has its advantages…there’s hardly anyone here, and the ones who are all seem to have radios…I suspect I’m the only one not being paid to be here, so there isn’t the usual people watching distraction. There is no food. If I fell asleep they might think I’d died. I can’t see out the window. Playing the helicopter game would make me look even more sad than I already do, and possibly make me look like a little hobo who has nowhere else to go…combined with my fingerless(height of fashion, I’d say…) mittens I’d probably be pitched out onto the street to be homeless elsewhere. A Caley matric card can only get you so far…and that’s not very far as it is.
Sooo, my ever present list of things to do that aren’t my project has been narrowed down- no napping, no eating, no talking, no people watching , no TV, no snow to watch…or rain, or just general outsideness, no shopping, no helicopter game for fear of being evicted…the list exhausted I was forced to do some project work. A cunning plan…but it’s all been too much, it’s cold, I’m sleepy, and it’s almost late/early enough that I can safely walk home without being accosted or eaten or chased or kidnapped or stabbed or bitten by a fox, or other nighttime creature/beast, or any other such Glasgow danger.
Over and out, home to bed safe, for a little while…
