So, I'm at home and sipping on a rather belated morning coffee. I was at the lab at midnight nursing a reaction and back at 9 am to take it off. I came home via buying bread and milk and now I'm washing my lab-coat.
The sad event currently is that on Saturday night my bike was stolen. The thieves chopped the locks and carted it away. This was the bike that my father bought for me for Xmas of 1999 and which had carried me most everywhere for the past 18 months. When I saw it gone my heart sank in the same way that it did when the little green car was stolen. I walked to archery with a deep sense of resignation, and it was only when I tried to explain it to Cate what had happened that I cracked finally and started to cry.
Thankfully the rest of the day I was too distracted with armouring to think much about it. Alas small trips to home become much longer excursions and I haven't been into the City since Sunday. I talked to Mum and Dad and sometime soon they will bring over my old bike which I will do up (lights and so forth) and that should suffice.
Yesterday (Tuesday) was fairly unproductive. Endnote (a referencing program) kept crashing so I had to defragment the hard-drive on the work computer which took from 11 am till 7 pm. With chatting online and nursing the reaction I took an hour for dinner and then came back. I also had coffee with Tim in the afternoon which was nice and interesting.
Today is fighter practice, and I hope that will be good. It's quite a social event, especially for those not training. On Sunday I finished my kidney belt, so today I'll integrate that with all my other odds and sods of armour. Hopefully this Sunday I'll finish my elbow protection. I'm still hoping to be able to fight at the Tourney on the 21st July, but this will depend mainly upon getting a helmet.
There's something that has made me curious for quite a while. The lower my top the more I like it. To put it slightly differently, I hate skivvies *ack, choke* but I like singlet tops. This morning I was feeling distinctly flat so I came home and fixed that and changed into my favourite black singlet. I don't know why this is, but I do know that cleavage is the difference sometimes between "wow, look at that girl" and "what's that?" Hmmm… it's a carrot and stick affair alas…