Yeah, I know, I am like this. I get tired of routine very easy. Besides, I don't like to sound repetitive and lately I don't feel creative to make up stories. My Forrest Gump side is asleep.
It seems that winter is slowly going away. Friday was a wonderful warm gray day, with no wind at all; a walk was needed. Of course I got late at school, but it was absolutely necessary that I felt that mild weather (the first this year) and make sure that life in London is more than this endless winter.
This week I've been thinking a lot. I've been thinking that we are what we experience through the path of our lives. I started wearing glasses at 9 years old, really young. And I was 2.5 degrees (or whatever it's called); I have friends that wear glasses for ages and they are less than 2! Talking about this to a friend as school I realized that I had a blury image of the world until my mother (or whoever) found out that I had sight problems. I popped from at least 4 different cities (not to mention houses) in my 5 first years, changed school as much as that (more than that), my room was my favourite place on Earth, my parents were divorced when I was 7, I was studiply myope at 9 and I am a damn cancerian. How could I be any different from what I am now?
I've just cleaned my room. Oh, dear, it was SO dirty! No wonder why I've been having this allergy crisis. I miss Francisca and the floor of my apartment.
Today the British summer time starts, which means that the difference between Brazil and UK will be 4 hours. This is awful; sometimes my mom appears online at 10 pm (2 am here!).
Ok, enough of being a victim of this terrible world. Gonna take a bath and feed Mr. Cookie.