Maria's Birthday. I'll have to call her later.
Ugh, so early. I couldn't sleep all night. I felt like a jerk every time I moved in the bunk bed because the whole thing would creak and sigh as it moved around, I could just feel the hate coming from the other girls in the room (there are eight bunk beds). I'm tired and I don't want to do anything but I don't want to waste my time here. I only have a week in London and the only thing I did yesterday was behind closed doors. I mean, this may be the only time in my life that I'm here and I'm going to hang out in a hostel? Somehow the sleepiness is telling me that it would be far more satisfying to chill here than roam the city getting lost and starring at famous buildings. The only thing I really don't want to miss is the British museum but I still have a few more days. I hope I don't regret it later. I hate when people ask "oh, did you go see this or that?" and I'll be like "no" and then they will explain why I should have seen it and I won't agree but will smile and nod anyways. I predict this in my future.
I'm in the kitchen in the hostel and there is this old guy in his robe with half his stuff hanging out, making something on the stove. His hair is sticking up and he is going bald. Kind of gross, kind of interesting - it is like sitting in the back of some middle aged man's kitchen. Smells that way too.
I have to confess, I am a fool. I am kinda hoping to run into the Argentine again. He won't get up until later (I think), so I guess he'll find me if he wants to. I hope he wants to.
Oh it's too early. Decent people are asleep.