your father's high horse

my delicate, boy-ish heart ached a little bit yesterday, when i was coming back from the airport.
unfortunately, there was no time or place for film-like emotions or weepy eyes;
young, christian missionary maidens on the bus were living 'it' (gosh), reading a student magazine 'deficit'(seriously), sharing novelties about lodging an appeal, about student loans, about polish mayo being good because it's polish; they were bursting with life, giggling.

so, no classes today, today is convalescence, today is rarities and titbits, oreo, horlicks, ovaltine, cheesecake and naps and other delicacies, whole bunch of tv shows.