Now, see, I didn't need this. I felt a little tingle in the back of my nose last night, and a familiar sort of metallic taste in the back of my mouth. This morning, when I woke up, and grumpily turned the alarm clock time ahead another half-hour to sleep more -- only to find I couldn't get back to sleep -- I knew it was for real: deep-down exhaustion, muscle aches, sniffiness, all the symptoms of a cold. So I got out the tiger balm and rubbed it around my nose, and I went to the convenience store and got some Panadol and a Minute Maid mandarin-based orange juice that's incredibly tasty, and was brought to question the wisdom of taking cold tablets and washing them down with an orange juice-like drink right after brushing my teeth. So far I don't feel much worse, which will have to serve the role of feeling better, since tomorrow is the first of my final exams and I simply can't miss that. Happily, it's an afternoon exam, so I can take some time to wake up in the morning.
And this was the first day of exams, which makes the campus feel so very deserted, at least when you get down during the hours of the morning exam. It's for good reason; most of the students who are on campus are in exam venues, and it's mighty hard to get out of them except to go to the bathroom or by becoming a danger to yourself and others. There's no between-class milling about at the canteen because it's not a long enough break to go back home, and even if you did have the spare time there's fair reason to spend it at the library instead. The quiet of someone like me wandering on campus and looking for something to eat was palpable. A college campus is so cute when it's asleep like that.
Tomorrow is when I actually have to be awake and doing particular things.
Soccer legend Pelé was in town signing autographs and drumming up support for the Integrated Resort plan under which he'd open a football school in Singapore. I still can't figure out why my brain insists on thinking of him as quite old, particularly considering that he'll be in better shape the worst day of his life than I will be on the best day of mine.
Trivia: Enrollment at Cambridge or Oxford in 1600 cost £20 per year. Source: Ideas: A History from Fire to Freud, Peter Watson.
Currently Reading: Advertising and the Transformation of American Society, 1865 - 1920, James D Norris.