01 February 2010

Waiting for the bus

The bus leaves for the station in 3 minutes, so I am going to blog for seven minutes and then go out for the next one. I was going to journal, but I can't find a pencil, and I can't bring myself to write in pen just yet.

Today was a good day. The trains ran on time more-or-less. I walked from the station to Middlesex, through the woods, with the blue sky made intense by it being so cold. My classes went well: I feel less like an imposter the more I do this. My supervisor here asked me to do some statistics for her research project and also told me that we had to work out my schedule for the autumn, which must mean that I am teaching here again in the autumn. If that is true, then I will have secured enough funds for my family to stay in our little-big house until the autumn of 2011 at the earliest. I, in my classic fashion, am already worried if I'll be able to work in 2011, and don't even get me STARTED on 2012. Well, for now, we are all fat and happy and can stay that way for at least another year and half.

Also, I love my little world here. I love my sweaters. I love my Bakhtin book. I love my wife and my daughters crowding our bed. I love London. I love reading for a living. I love it.

I love you too, dear reader. Don't you forget that.
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