Kat Dancing

Cork is fairly boring- at least the city. I wandered around for a few hours yesterday, but it's really a pretty big town, and highly industrial as well. Ah well. I could only get hold of one of my farmers, too, so that sucks: and the computers at the hostel are about a 100 years old, particularly the keyboards, so this won't be a very long post. I'm starting to panic, really. I leave, as my mother pointed out, next Tuesday- a week from, Jesus, yesterday. I want to see some farms. I want to visit my friend in Peterburough. I want to get my novel in final-critique state. I *have* to be back in London by Monday. My brain is starting to make 'pop, pop, fizz, fizz' noises. Such is life.

Strangely, my legs don't hurt from my slightly-over-twenty-mile hike on Monday, but my lower back does. Lower back? Okay. My body is not actually trying to make sense; it's just punishing me in as novel a way as possible.