A Delayed Wednesday

            When I woke up this morning, the light peaking through my window making it just barely too bright to sleep anymore, I noticed one of my three greyish-blue covered pillows had been pushed halfway down between the head of my bed and the wall. This isn’t uncommon for me, every morning I wake up and half of what had been on my bed when I went to sleep the night before will have been violently kicked off in my sleep.

As I was putting my bed back together, reaching for my pillow that had fallen down the front of my bed against the wall my jaw dropped when I saw what the pillow had been ever so carefully concealing.  What should usually be this yellow, off white colored wall was replaced by black mold, slowly crawling up the side of my wall.

My level of disgust at seeing a long stretch of mold was actually enhanced, if you can honestly believe it, when I reached under my bed to pull out my socks that I had kicked off during the night only to find them covered in mold spores. Horrified that my warmest pair of socks, which I have affectionately named my Mountain Man socks, could possibly be ruined I completely ignored my extremely scheduled morning plan and the fact that I had a lecture in two and a half hours was completely forgotten.

I rushed to the bathroom, filled the basin with the boiling hot water that comes out the second you turn on the tap, threw in some detergent and vigorously began hand washing my favorite pair of socks over and over again, constantly refilling the basin. After they reached what I deemed clean I had another problem. How was I going to dry them? I knew that if I just left them sitting in my room the same thing would happen, the moisture would cause the mold to just come right back.

            Standing in my room, holding to pairs of soaking wet socks in my hand an idea occurred to me. Then radiator. It does nothing to heat up my room but it burns your finger every time you touch it.  So I placed my socks on the grate where the heat comes out and then began to get ready for the day.

            In my film industry class we had a guest speaker who talked to us and gave us the historical backstory of a film he was in the process of making about the lives of various astronomers. I will be brutally honest with you. An hour and half astronomy lesson was not doing anything for my ability to focus or worse yet stay awake. I tried really hard the entire time to keep an engaged look on my face, but the dim lights combined with the speaker’s monotone voice and my complete disinterest in everything that he was saying, well my eyes were having a very difficult time remaining open.

            Finally we were permitted to split up into our groups, the lights were turned on and the conversation help wake me up some. We were all given the assignment to come up with a marketing strategy for this film by looking at other films and using creativity to help think up new and clever ways to promote the film.

            My group is comprised of two girls from High Point University, a guy from Detroit, a British girl, and two British guys. We talked a little bit about what we could do and then made plans to meet up sometime during the week.  They are all really sweet people and the walk back with all them was rich in conversation about what always seems to come up the first time I talk to anyone British which is the difference in our accents and the way we say things and all that nonsense.

            I went back to my flat, had lunch in the hour between my film course and my travel writing course, listened to music and then walked over the Willow building.

            The day ended with Collier and I trying out this new pub, well new for us, called The Port Mahon. It was a small pub about halfway down to the city center. Very home-y and defiantly the definition of what Americans believe to be a pub.

            The day started off not so great but as it progressed it got better and ended fantastically over a meal with good friends.