5 Ramadhan, 1441
Down: The early afternoon and a bit of a break between lessons, and I mean a 'bit'. Back aching - I really don't like delivering lessons seated. Quite a bit of stuff to deal with, incoming, and I don't mean a 'bit'. My body tells me it's time for a break and a drink, and seconds later my brain tells me that can't be done - the drink, I mean. Frustration - not so much over not being able to drink - that's okay - but over those few seconds of foolish, irritatingly misplaced desire.
Up: Noi's patented lentil soup, with bread - coming to the end of bowl of. I comment that it's almost perfect, but there's something lacking. A cold night in Istanbul, on which to eat it. Hah! But a warm evening in this Far Place is a very close second - and even though I haven't been outside all day, somehow I feel in possession of the world. Amazing what a bowl of soup can do for the soul, eh?
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