a copy of a word document
Yeah, I’m mobile now… ish. Sitting in the departures lounge at East Midlands in café Ritazza or some such with me laptop. Except that the battery is knackered so I’ve hi-jacked a plug socket and there’s no wireless in the area (perhaps not surprising for an airport) so I can’t go online either. So not all that mobile really, more like stationary in a new location.
I must say this “lounge” is a little disappointing. As usual there is a dearth of comfy seats, but there is also a dearth of anything else. One small café and some businessmen. Oh, and a TV which is actually very far away from me but turned up annoyingly loud and showing that kids programme with the two chefs, one named Ben and one named Small (who, coincidently, is only about 6 inches tall). No one is watching it, why is it there? There is no option to change the channel or turn down the volume as far as I can tell.
Spent a bit of time before writing some stuff in my notebook. My main observation so far is simply the deadness of this travel time. It seems like all this sitting and waiting could be relaxing and used productively for reading and writing but, instead, it is simply dead time. Taken up with mooching and waiting and buying expensive snacks. There are none of the normal distractions of life, no other things to do (cooking, cleaning, crafts, gardening, TV, going out) but, no matter how hard you try, there is still too much thought involved in the waiting and watching to fully devote yourself to anything else. Always checking the time, looking at the departures board or staring into space to devote yourself to a greater cause. Dead time. Neither work nor play, earmarked for nothing but waiting, the most endless and unfulfilling non-activity there is.
Except that I am writing, so I’m proving myself wrong. I am fidgeting a lot though, and I feel rather uncomfortable. And I managed to do very little before I left the house this morning, except continually check I’d got the bus times correct and then leave 30 minutes early anyway. Not very jet-set.
Later:
Sitting in my room with a lack of soberness. I met three other people tonight. One guy, called Jim, works at Deansgate and, naturally, knows Liam. We ate and drank lots, our budget is a very reasonable £25 per person per night. It was a good night but, frankly speaking, I’m now pretty tired. It’s always knackering to be meeting new people.
I must say this “lounge” is a little disappointing. As usual there is a dearth of comfy seats, but there is also a dearth of anything else. One small café and some businessmen. Oh, and a TV which is actually very far away from me but turned up annoyingly loud and showing that kids programme with the two chefs, one named Ben and one named Small (who, coincidently, is only about 6 inches tall). No one is watching it, why is it there? There is no option to change the channel or turn down the volume as far as I can tell.
Spent a bit of time before writing some stuff in my notebook. My main observation so far is simply the deadness of this travel time. It seems like all this sitting and waiting could be relaxing and used productively for reading and writing but, instead, it is simply dead time. Taken up with mooching and waiting and buying expensive snacks. There are none of the normal distractions of life, no other things to do (cooking, cleaning, crafts, gardening, TV, going out) but, no matter how hard you try, there is still too much thought involved in the waiting and watching to fully devote yourself to anything else. Always checking the time, looking at the departures board or staring into space to devote yourself to a greater cause. Dead time. Neither work nor play, earmarked for nothing but waiting, the most endless and unfulfilling non-activity there is.
Except that I am writing, so I’m proving myself wrong. I am fidgeting a lot though, and I feel rather uncomfortable. And I managed to do very little before I left the house this morning, except continually check I’d got the bus times correct and then leave 30 minutes early anyway. Not very jet-set.
Later:
Sitting in my room with a lack of soberness. I met three other people tonight. One guy, called Jim, works at Deansgate and, naturally, knows Liam. We ate and drank lots, our budget is a very reasonable £25 per person per night. It was a good night but, frankly speaking, I’m now pretty tired. It’s always knackering to be meeting new people.
posted by paul at 1:38 am
1 Comments:
Hey Paul,
si and lucy writing this. just saying hello to you out in ireland really. we think you're probably still stacking books now. i hope you were wearing shades at the airport, its the only way to travel.... bono.
si and lucy xx
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