I doubt I shall be writing much for the next few weeks. The weeks past have been far too interesting for me to do it unnecessary violence by recording it. Oxford's been gentle so far; I have managed to write perfectly sensible essays without really reading the texts. That makes me happy. The ciabattas (excellent ones found in almost every shop) make me happy too. I am in love again. The tutorials once a week have softened the scars left from the numerous hours of being in lecture halls. Mike, my tutor of Ancient Philosophy, talks to me about coconut climbers and crocodiles. I am going to watch a silly musical in London, dance on a boat the same weekend and visit old friends.
Now is not the time to mull. I shall have my share of fun and frolic. I shall sing.