So I finally moved into my room. The last few days were like pulling teeth. I wanted to go in and personally tape up the boxes myself. I resisted though and instead just wistfully gazed down upon the cardboard box where the beast cat lives. Actually the other day I left the door open and beast cat sat cautiously inside the house when it thought no one was looking. But I spied its presence of course ( because I have an incredible doy radar) and captured its boldness on film.
Doy, by the way, is a term for cat which was coined back in 1996 on my first trip to Turkey. Turkey was in fact the first country I visited as an adult traveller. I remember being terrified of losing a kidney in the organ trade.
Now that I have a room I feel a little better although I wake in the night with a most anxious heart and nothing really soothes it My flatmate also likes to practise singing very late at night The songs she sings sound sad and can vary between a tuneful lament and wailing. I complimented her on her singing the other night.
"How lovely you sound in the early hours of the morn," I said.
" Oh yes," she said proudly. " Thank you. Very beautiful."
Such sweet confidence.