I cannot sleep peacefully

...because the reflective discourse (can I hand in a mirror?) is due in on Friday. Amongst other things like knitting a garment, embroidering a garment, and beading a garment. So that's anything between an essay and a garment, and an essay and three garments....... depending on your reading. Oh, and please remember the portfolio. Did I mention visa too?

I am in s***.

Anyhow.
A few days ago, feeling rather dejected after rushing across London to find out that 'sorry this [CR] laser cutter does not cut plastic', Anne and I went to our favourite biltong seller on Liverpool Street. We bought a bottle of cider out of thirst and hot weather, only to realise nobody could open it. So I decided to go to hers (of course to taste the cider!) We walked to the appropriate bus stop, and waited.
A man on bicycle went pass. He looked like this guy, but older.
And Anne said, "wasn't that Giles?" (she once worked for him)
"With that much grey hair?"
"He looked old."
Oh. "I thought he's supposed to look much younger."

Next commuting tale.
I was sitting on the bus on my way home earlier today (it's still Tuesday in my head) -slumped, deflated and hungry- when a DOM sat next to me. Now, DOM stands for dodgy dirty old men. So a DOM means one dodgy dirty old man sitting next to me, with a hand that is magnetised towards my thigh. Feeling cross, I hissed an excuse-me and strategically positioned 2kg of yarns and my slingbag between his seat and mine. A few minutes later, he took it as a cue to conduct a conversation:
"Where are you from?"
(Who do you think you are, a border official at Heathrow?)
"Japan?"
(Stare forward.)
"Thailand?"
(Getting warmer.)
"Hong Kong?"
(Meh.)
"China?"
(Still wrong.)
"................."
(Look out the window)
"...Korea?"
"Nevermind." (which is the only other word I uttered to him.)
He got out two stops later.

Seriously, the rate at which people say 'Japan' and 'China' (HK included) is phenomenally blasé. I wonder if next time I should say Armenia or Kuwait instead. I stand up for my country, I don't let stakeholders know my nationality even more, and I dislike the ill-ease of my passport too. Or maybe it's just Europe picking its navel whenever I beckon my sight there for some trade show, like what this HSBC guy said in some pamphlet re investing in Asia. Maybe Europe's just too snotty to move on. Or maybe UK's got too much nannyish health and safety considerations. It's as if the creative thinking energy is redirected from tackling problems to conjuring up imaginary scenarios in which citizens become exposed to danger because they do not realise a heating cabinet is hot, or that a packet of nuts contain nuts.
More creativity is being used to coerce people into fear of what could happen 0.03% of the time.

Anyway, it's bed time, knitting time or typing time.
I choose the duvet. Take care!