One morning in Southampton

08:30. I wake up to a song from Faxanadu (a NES game), serving as my cellphone alarm tone. I slowly get up from my double bed feeling disoriented, as I always do when waking up. I probably have slept for 6 to 8 hours, my general amount of sleep per night.

As I get up from the bed, I usually quickly decide what I'm going to wear: Addict T-shirt, a collage shirt with the words "urgent need of sound" imprinted on it, given to me by my room-mate. I slowly make my way to the bathroom, throwing my clothes on the floor in a small pile.

I run the shower for a few seconds, waiting for the hot water to start pouring out of the showerhead. Getting under the hot stream of water, I go through a certain phoenix-like rejuvenation process. I usually feel deathly tired without a morning shower. I don't use shampoo, because it would soften and break my already-way-too-broken dreadlocks, so I just settle for washing my scalp and body with a herbal soap. Drying myself is always an arduous process, as the air temperature in a British house seems to be always freezing, so I tend to be very quick with the towel, drying my hair with rigorous movements.

Finally having dressed myself, I go downstairs packing my laptop and other stuff like keys and mobile phone into my backpack. I get some orange juice from the fridge, my default breakfast of choice; I never like to eat anything "solid" too early. As I'm walking towards the door, my room-mate greets me, and we talk about some current topics and our life in the house in general. Seeing as she is my good friend also, it is a very easy way of communicating all worries about the house and bills et cetera.

I get out of the house, carrying a bag with library books in my hand, which are already a day overdue. Turning left, I walk to the end of the street to the nearest bus-stop. I wait three minutes for the bus, thanking the good connections of the city in my mind. I get on the bus, stating my destination to the driver through the plastic screen. I sit down, watching the view out of the window as the bus makes it way to city centre. I get off near the university.

Walking to the university campus from the bus-stop only takes a few minutes, and soon I see the library entrance. I walk inside, making my way through the turnstiles to the returns desk, and I find that it is not yet open. I turn around to the self-serve return desks, and scan my returns, dropping them to a slot in the table one by one. Having returned everything, I cannot recall if that was all the books I took out. To remedy this, I walk to the info desk, and give out my campus card to the woman behind the desk. She smiles kindly, and we change a few pleasantries. Scanning my card, I hear I'm off the hook, having returned everything. I smile, and exit the building, hearing her talking to a person behind me.

I walk through the next building to the elevators; it's already 9:32, I'm 30 minutes late. I walk to the elevators, and take it to the fifth level. I exit the elevator, and enter the classroom. Here I now sit, writing this blog post, coming to a full circle.