lazy days

[helenic]

Right now I feel incapable of doing anything productive. The sun is making me drowsy; I get up in the afternoon and am sleepy again only ten hours later. I could drift amiably in this lethargy for days if there weren't a hundred and one things I need to do: fill out bursary application forms, do hideous amounts of laundry, unpack from Devon and re-pack for both term and student cross, dismantling the bedroom walls I haven't been home enough to appreciate. Ever since I got back from Stratford the floor's been littered with suitcases and clothes, and I have to sort it out before I go to Walsingham because there won't be time afterwards. I deliberately organised these five weeks to spend as little time in this house as possible, dividing the days alone between visiting and being visited so they passed as quickly as possible. The fortnight at Christmas inbetween seeing Iain and Alex with nothing to do but my nightshifts and mourn my grandmother was too forlorn to bear repeating. While never having more than three days at a time between places has saved my sanity, too many practicalities have been neglected.

I now have three days to find a summer job in Leicester, and I haven't even started sketches for my submission to the college art exhibition. I have a few ideas about theme, style and mood but no specific subject matter, and not enough time to take photos. I always leave these things too late. Employment I'm a little less worried about - there's a home help job in Birstall I'm quite interested in, and a Manpower in Leicester if all else fails.

Still, in a way it's nice to be home. It's the first time the four of us (including my brother) have been together for months, and while he and I find it hard to have actual conversation, as a tv companion he's unparallelled, and we still manage a running stream of ridiculous private jokes. Besides which, I really have missed my piano.