Wednesday, 11 February 2004

I didn't give an acount of my weekend, but there isn't much to tell. On Saturday I spent an age trying to find the laundry at the residence and, having eventually found it, made a small dent into my accumulation of dirty washing. I also went shopping and actually cooked something, albeit only pasta, for the first time since arriving. I also got a first glimpse of French television. On both Saturday and Sunday I read voraciously, so much so that I finished East of Eden, having only been 100 pages in beforehand. It was a beautiful weekend, from what I saw out my windows.

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