Oh God am I bored.

So, yeah. I'm a sissy -- but there is nothing to do here.

I've already read most of a novel for my diss, surfed the internet endlessly, napped, looked at magazines, and it is only 4pm.

And I'm running out of magazines.

I was a little distressed this morning when the lady that took my food orders indicated that that little menu is the extent of my agency while here. "certainly she is exaggerating" I thought. Nope. I'm looking forward to dinner (she convinced me to get the ice cream) in a way that I have never looked forward to dinner before - as something to do.

By tomorrow I shall be insane.

Also, for the record, H. Rider Haggard's She is really, really grotesque in parts.

I'm particularly fond of the embalmed-people-torches, that will indubitably end up featured amongst the "hideous" in my dissertation.

I've also become an avid watcher of the EEG monitor. If I blink my eyes, it's recorded onscreen as a series of wiggles, and it is terrifically difficult to not play with this new understanding I have developed in order to make the monitor look interesting.

Yeah.

So. Clearly. Bored.