Even though the wind showed signs of waning by the end of the evening yesterday, it still blew like an insatiable trumpeter throughout the night. Mother Nature posed the daunting prospect of another sleepless night. Despite being terrified of the thought of spending another night with eyes wide open, we bravely hopped up to the attic bedroom in the hope of hitting the hay right after carefully placing our weary heads onto the pillow. I was almost charmed by the gentle shadows on the wall drawn by the moonlight when the sudden horror of realising what this phenomenon really meant slowly lifted my eyelids. When the visual stimuli poke the brain with photons, one’s mind automatically sets itself into alert mode. And so did mine. It woke my system up without saying, “Bonjour Triest!”. However hard I tried to goad my cerebral cortex into losing consciousness, it wouldn’t obey.
I still need to figure out how the following events unfolded, but one thing is sure: in the middle of my agony, one of the convolutions of my brain found the switch.
I remember turning about and waking up numerous times during the night, so when the alarm went off at 6 a.m., and the sound of the usual wake-up call hit my eardrums with the force of a sledgehammer, I felt as aggressive as a territorial grizzly.
Fortunately, the afternoon slumber party made us forget how terrible the previous night had been; however, it also ensured the well-known Sunday afternoon post-kip delirium.
My new bridge is in my mouth. It took the doc almost an hour to meticulously and precisely fit it in and cement it. I wasn't allowed to eat for three hours, and I still can't chew anything on the left side of my jaw. However, my dental features are ship-shape-and-shiny. Only one tooth is left: they need to replace the old filling. Once it's done, I'll have a Hollywood-type smile. Before the dental care, I went through the lesson plan I'd prepared the other day for today. When I returned home from the dentist, I took Abby for her afternoon walk and drove to Budapest to teach. Before arriving at where I taught, I popped into a store to buy some "kifli" for later and four "Túró Rudi" to appease my rumbling stomach. After teaching, I hurried back home, grabbed two "kifli", some butter and plum jam, and ate like a king. It was already pitch dark when we returned from our evening walk with Abby. I hate the early dusks. However, summer tries
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