It's going to be a wonderfully slow day, finally. Since I moved into this place I'd been feeling very restless and walled in. I think I've finally begun to learn how to stare off into space and zone out comfortably enough. Since I landed in Calcutta I've only met scared or indifferent dogs. None of them would respond to whistling or calling. Last night, armed with greasy egg rolls I became firm friends with two beautiful ladies who were kind enough to let me rub their stomachs and vent some of my longing for my own babies. I hope they're fine and warm. And I hope they know I'm constantly sending them love.
Today is the day I lounge. I walked around Calcutta yesterday and I think I quite like the place. It's filthy and crowded and has the strangest traffic I've ever seen, but it's a friendly place. I've been working around the clock all week and it feels like it's passed by in an uneven sleep-clogged blur. I'm sitting by myself and I'm content. And slightly panicking about all the studying I need to get a move on NOW, but I'll ignore that for at least half of today. It's been a while since I've stopped to do nothing and opportunities like this are not to be passed on.
My brain is finally becoming pleasant goop. I can slowly feel it sliding down into the back of my head, slouching all the way. I'm torturing myself with delicious thoughts of holidays and bed-ins. I'm suddenly craving buttered toast. That's a childhood association with holidays.
I bought My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk yesterday while strolling about Calcutta. I read about thirty pages and passed out last night. A book! A new interesting book that has the potential and promise to occupy me all weekend long. I never imagined I'd need to get away from Delhi to be able to do this again. Ah shit. I need to study this weekend. Dang. I'll figure out a way to do both, of course.