My New Roommate

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I drank milk today. For the first time in nearly six weeks. Neat, and in tea. Cheap watery UHT rubbish. Delicious.

The reason I drank milk is...I needed some to put in the dog's bowl (which is actually an ashtray) and she won't drink it all before it goes off. So...I have some, so it won't go to waste.

So much of our lives is habit, and habits get formed from such simple chance things like that. I didn't buy milk because I wouldn't use a whole litre carton in tea before most of it went bad. And I was happy to think I might never drink milk again. Now I've got a dog, and she drinks milk, so I drink it too.

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Another habit is a film or serial episode eaten with my evening meal, which is yet another habit. I stopped watching The X-Files after season five. Now I've got season seven, and I'm working through it, one or two episodes a night...how many years since I used to tune in every week to catch the latest episode?

It's an immensely silly show - always was - but now it's no longer current, and there aren't quite so many people who think it's all true somehow, it doesn't matter that it's silly.

And William B Davis is really cool.

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Wednesday has just figured out what the bathroom is for. Hmm.

I arranged the sofa cushions into a ramp and tower for her to climb up, so she can sleep on the end of my bed. She figured that out too, in two minutes. Before figure out what she really wants to sleep on is a pile of my clothes. Okay.

Hey, it's the closest I'm going to get to bringing up a child. At least, I hope so.

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I got bleach mixed up with detergent and got my clothes multihued - in some cases quite artistically. Okay, so I got the distinction clear and washed my blotchy clothes again in detergent. Except it turns out that wasn't detergent either. It was washing up liquid, for dishes.

And the moral of the story is: In Bulgaria, there are no liquid detergents. They're all powders. If it's a liquid, you might not know what it is, but it's not detergent. Though it might be fabric softener.

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Stephen P's got in touch, with emails full of questions about what's been happening in the two months (thereabouts, but seems longer) since we last met. We only got to meet occasionally, but it's a very welcome distraction from the poverty of the country and the ineptitude of the school.

Also welcome as a reminder that there are people back home who still care about me.

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Speaking of which, I'm going to try posting a letter to C, a process which is significantly more convoluted (and slow) than in the UK.

I don't have an email address for him. Using Skype I can send SMSs - but not receive them - and whether they get through seems to be luck of the draw. Typically, his number is the only one that Skype can't seem to connect to. Gah.

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