i've been hit by a bus.**

i'm sick.

or poorly as the english lot would say. poorly just sounds so poetic yet also incredibly wimpy at the same time. since tuesday i keep bouncing between fever/chills to dry coughs and yet, my nasal passage remains clear. score. actually, if i could have my way, i'd prefer to stay with the fever/chills bit because at least i know extra strength tylenol will kick some ass. just so we're clear...it's not normal to wear three pair of socks, yoga pants, long-sleeved shirt AND a hoodie to bed is it? i feel like once your body moves on and submits to flu-like symptoms, that's it...you're done and you know what the rest of your week will look like and really, who knows how long that could last. so, not only am i sick but i'm also menses. double attack. lovely. whatever. i've got enough remedies on hand to play with. and, homemade chicken noodle soup with hot sauce is all i seem to be interested in.

so, i don't know if you know, but england is closed. if there was a sign, "sorry, we're closed, please call again" now would be a good time to post it. i ventured out mid-week because it wasn't really that bad out. but, come thursday morning there was another dumping of fresh snow. and everybody's freakin' out. not me. it feels like christmas when there's snow. i love it. i feel like i'm home. oh, and my dad told me, hayley, i'm not worried about you, i'm worried about those english drivers. i know you know how to drive in snow....but them? no clue. aaaw, so sweet. thanks for the compliment, dad.

all week the english media have been dissecting why the uk can't seem to handle themselves when the snow falls and now they've moved on to find out who is to blame for the response, or the poor lack thereof. people stranded at airports, on motor ways. train service at a stand still. stories of people spending hours trying to get home from work. i'm getting tired of hearing about it. this is so not news where i come from. well, maybe it is, i don't know...but quite frankly i don't wanna talk about it anymore. so i won't. england, pull yourself together. gah, moving on.

rachel left after church on sunday and i went off to join this older couple at their home for lunch. this is the couple who sat next to me the week before at church. ohmygoodnessiwannabethemwhenimolder. they're in their late sixties. they interact with each like a well oiled-machine. they compliment each other like i've never seen demonstrated at their age. the husband went home early from church to get the roast in the oven. and then, in their tiny kitchen, i sat, while they worked around each other, chatting away to me. i seriously think i am a sixty year old person trapped in a twenty-seven year old body. we talked about the war, we talked about history, we talked about scotland, we talked about castles, we talked about canada, we talked about documentaries. and...AND...i was able to contribute to the conversation. i know! the twenty-seven year old contributed to topics she wasn't even around for! i surprise myself sometimes. after our sunday roast, aha...they took me down to the harbour front to see the ships. these guys could easily be my surrogate grandparents. now i miss my grandad and i wanna join my nana for a whisky nightcap beside the coal fire. but, they are absolutely lovely and i rang them yesterday to thank them again for a great time, but also to see how they were getting on (oh man...am i ever turning english, my mom warned me my accent would stay the same, but that their phrases would slowly creep their way into my vocabulary) with all this snow.

so, what else is happening?

i haven't even worn these outside yet. i bought them the other day because i am getting tired of wet pant legs from walking in the snow. and, for my english peeps, pants means trousers. does anyone else from north america find the word trousers to be slightly archaic? maybe it's just me. and, no. they're not uggs. i'm not cool enough to wear uggs. rachel's a lot cooler than me. but, they are lined with lambs wool which makes me very happy inside.

you are looking at a mark on my left boot that, like i said, i haven't even worn outside yet. what type of mark you ask? oh, you'll never guess. i'll have to tell you. the mark is from my concealer. what, you say? i'm more accident prone than normal and i proceeded to fumble my makeup concealer where it fell from my grasp and broke its fall on my new boot before hitting the floor. frig. it's not fair being me. i'd like the option to trade myself in until preferably...next week.

but, before all that happened, the man came to read the electricity meter. i was still in my pjs when he called, i was about to do the dishes and i was caught off guard, not to mention i had been hit by a bus that particular morning. he saw me in my wooly socks and my canadian hoodie. then, while we were making small talk about the weather i told him i was from canada, and then i realised, duh hayley, the hoodie, duh hayley, the accent. and then after a few more minutes of friendly banter he said bye and then i was glad to shut the door. i looked in the mirror and said, oh my. i felt sorry for him and this unfortunate encounter.

...andistartworkmonday.



**this was written a few days ago for reasons i'll address later.