a woman's place

Welcome to the age of uninnocence. The glittering lights of Manhattan that served as backdrops for Edith Wharton's bodice-heaving trysts are still glowing-but the stage is empty. No one has breakfast at Tiffany's, and no one has affairs to remember-instead, we have breakfast at seven AM and affairs we try to forget as quickly as possible. How did we get into this mess?

today was alright.
my back is acting up again. not very good. am slightly worried bout this. who knows, doctors and mummy unite might just pull me out of nationals.
but it'll interesting to see who rows the 4th k2 boat if my back forces me out.
anyway. let's not think bout that for now.
plans of study was dropped, in favour of visiting a sick loved one.
wore my birkies out. the white is still gleaming. and the shoe, ever so comfy.
running monday's timetable tmrw.
oh, how unfair.