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3:41 pm, BST
Arrive in Edinburgh apartment. Sit on the bed for three hours, rising only to brew tea and, inexplicably, dredge a wool blanket from a chest under the bed, shake it out in the pend (covered passageway) beside the apartment, and pile it at the foot of the bed.

6:24 pm
Based on an offhand comment by a schoolmate, check the semester dates for my classes. Realise classes do not, in fact start on Friday; they start tomorrow morning. Beginning with the one I’ve been looking forward to most, run by my thesis supervisor. Whom I have not yet met. This does solve the problem of when to meet with her…

Most ridiculously, this isn’t the first time I’ve checked the dates for this semester. Or the second. Until my friend posted ‘See you Monday!’ at the end of a Facebook comment, I was 100% certain that term started on a Friday. (Don’t look at me like that. I come from a country where term generally starts the Tuesday after Labor Day, and there’s at least one Monday holiday. I figured we would be getting Good Friday off in return. What, exactly, a nation of Calvinists might be expected to do on Good Friday is none of my business.)

Suddenly, I’m very glad I insisted on an early vacation.

o O o

Don’t think I’ve forgotten the details of my trip; I haven’t. But this was funnier.

Edit: Also, this is apparently my 144th post. Ew. 

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