Friday to Sunday 12-14

I was tired. So tired that I lost track of days. But last Friday was Thursday and Thursday was Wednesday. Just to get rid of any confusion, or addying to it.

My vision was to read and write intensively Friday. Not much happened. I am however getting used to turning night to day and sleeping very late. But I cannot say I like it. What happens the day after is that I sit by the computer and manages to get nothing done. It takes a lot of work do actually do nothing. I had a nice cup of tea though. Getting a drop of tea in Oxford is not as easy as it sounds, given the enormous number of cafés. Saturday and Sunday I failed to get a seat at Grand Café which is legendary. Even Starbucks and Costas were full, so I went to Tescos and bought a teapot substitute for 50p and had myself a cup in my room, while diving into the confusing depths of Ranciere. He isn’t all that confusing, but since he repeats his message over and over, I get the notion he has more to say. And I still have to figure out exactly what it is he wants to tell me specifically.
I have also done some running in the parks. It is heaven. And cooked some fantastic food. Whatever my expectations where of going to England and living in a corridor it was not to revive my enthusiasm for cooking. But I am actually having fun in the kitchen again. This week my mission is to do something with Brussels sprout.

These were strange days, and maybe my displacement was due to the feeling I should have been in Uppsala. There 11th was one a double anneversary, 12-13 was one and then Valentine's Day. Oxford was busy these days, but my mind was elsewhere.