Wednesday 18th Feb
When one has plenty of time to consider how they got themselves into a specific situation, such contemplation ultimately culminates in some sort of new conclusion regarding ones personality – for me it does, anyway. This morning, as I shivered, slightly dehydrated anxiously awaiting the household to stir, I decided that I take things far too literally. This revelation may surprise those of you who know me of course… or maybe not?
Spontaneity is a marvellous thing, one in which I delight mainly as it removes responsibility for all decision making from me. However, I also appreciate a well formulated plan when circumstances require a well formulated plan. It would seem, however, that middle ground and vagueness is where I become somewhat unstuck.
Of course, I realised this after a rather to literal interpretation of my host’s morning routine. When roused at 7am by my carefully placed alarm clock, I made sure I was presentable and the room left tidy by 8am. You see, my friend had mentioned that she usually gets up around 8. Therefore, I made sure I was ready by that precise time so as to avoid any possible perception that I was a lazy guest. Downstairs, I sat by myself, freezing & carefully positioned within a strip of sunlight bursting through the net curtain. Concerned at the fact I did not know where any water was for an hour – I was avoiding the kitchen due to the duck hanging by its neck and various other undecipherables dotted all over the place; one quick scout of the area immediately accessible from the safety of the lounge left me beverageless. I tried fruitlessly to become absorbed by the book open in my hand. Scared stiff that the family would rise before my friend, I quashed the idea of coughing really loudly to try and wake her in case I accidentally woke up my new Chinese nan and had to try to communicate with those still and penetrating eyes.
Little dishes were still on the table from my inaugural dinner and the food left out. My immediate concern over the apparent lack of cling film or Tupperware was momentarily pacified by the thought that actually, it’s so bloody cold, no parasite would survive anyway. However, as the pork sat within it’s solidified fat; prawns rested atop each other, their furry little moustaches twitching in the through breeze, it also dawned on me that this might be breakfast.
She went to Shanghai 