Today we went to a yoga (I just wrote that as 'yogay'. Chuckle) class. It was energetic, there was jumping, grunting (not from me), insane displays of flexibility (again, not from me), two frankly unacceptable VPLs, and an instructor who definitely belongs on a Tibetan mountain (he was very nice though). I will not be going back to that one, however. I like slow movement, as many people will attest.
I also spent three hours in Waterstones peeling stickers off books and replacing them with different ones. Thank you, Barack Obama, for providing us with so many billions of copies of your stupid autobiography that is now buy one get one free, not three for two. I have also been told I do have to work the Saturday after the Bailey Ball, 12-6. I have warned them I will be asleep, hungover and angry, but they don't seem to care. After that though, it is Grey fireworks which will be super cool. And Martin and K-dawg will be here which is beyond super cool.
Final news of the day is this: http://www.durham21.co.uk/index.php/2009/11/rip-fishtank/
Porridge time.
xxx
Edit: My lecture tomorrow has just been cancelled. Obviously I don't rejoice in lecturer's sickness, but YAY for a day off.
Wuurgh, yogay sounds a bit odd. I considered starting yoga this year, but it hasn't happened yet. Maybe I'll drop Arabic next year in favour of it. Or maybe I'll just continue to eat myself into oblivion. After all, more exercise will presumably just make me hungrier.
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