The downside of waiting in the cold for a tramway is that at one point, your feet are turning into sodden freezing bits of bone and skin which in turn results in a cold. It always shocks me how terrible something simple like blowing your nose can feel. I'm not really ill very often, but this means that when I do feel unwell, it knocks me off of my feet immediately.
I don't mind staying in of course, but I'm actually too dizzy to read. My eyes don't seem to focus right. Actually my ears don't seem to focus right either, but I really don't know what verb I should use here. Let me quote The Clientele: "The noise of the nearby trains stuttered in in fits and starts." This is what it feels like. There are even trains nearby.
There's one thing I'm able to do though. I'm just going to practice my Greek all evening by talking to myself. I'll try to find out how to pronounce that "s" correctly - or rather, which version I prefer as there seems to be no correct way. My father claims that half of the Greek population is suffering from sigmatism and I'm inclined to believe him.
Other than the pronounciation-problems, life is good. Sure, the workload is enormous, but luckily it's also incredibly interesting. It's lovely to spend days in the library with tea-and-cake-breaks in between and to get home in the evening feeling vaguely accomplished and knowing that there're things to look forward to. Every week is basically the same, the familiar pattern of reading and writing and discussions about theory and late-night conversations, "telling endless sleepy stories about nothing". And chocolate muesli.
Have a photo of my awesome t-shirt as a reminder that I'm not a whining, red-nosed person wearing pyjamas all the time: