(no subject)

Steam trains keep passing my house. Only about 1 a day, mind. I love the noise they make, the steam everywhere, the proper choo-choo-ness of it all. The whistle is a proper whistle. Not a honnnk honnnnk but a chweep chweeeeep.

Sat outside Scotch Hall last night for about an hour eating the most amazing chocolatey gooey creamy sticky fudgey cake I've ever tasted and occasionally giggling at passers by who seemed convinced I was drunk. And I was. On cake. Came home and nursed the same pint for about 4 hours, though it didn't seem like anywhere near a quarter of that. Fell asleep around four, happy with self and with the world.

Have rediscovered the relaxing powers of fiction and baths. Will be doing more self-medication along those lines over the next few weeks.