Bud has flu. It's the second time in six weeks and this time it's hit him really hard. Floored him. Unable to bear being laid out in bed all day long, he's loafing around the flat like a restless teenager on a street corner - only looking like an old man. He's got low back pain from the coughing and keeps telling me that I'm getting a preview of how he'll look in ten or twenty years time, Bud stooped and shuffling along with a stick or a walking frame. I must say, he's still bright and cheerful, despite being knocked out by flu. The sun is simply built into him, brought with him all the way from the Caribbean all those years ago when he first came to Holland and has stayed with him ever since, bless him.
He's driving me up the wall! I'm trying to get my paper done for college and can't seem to get a span of even ten minutes when I'm not interrupted by something Bud wants or wants to say. I know I'd miss this if he wasn't around - if the flu were to suddenly wipe him out like he sometimes fears it might - but that doesn't quell the frustration and feeling of rising panic (how on earth AM I going to get this latest paper done in time?)
So, there you have it, we need a bigger flat. This girl needs a room of her own. Trouble is, prices of flats in overpopulated North Holland are sky high, particularly in Amsterdam and, anyway, I don't have time to look for one. So we're stuck with this for the moment.
I have two options: 1. lock myself in my little study corner in the bedroom or 2. go out and study somewhere else. No. 1 doesnt work because we don't have a lock on the door and if the door's closed it doesn't stay closed for long (and, anyway, it seems so unfriendly towards such a basically friendly soul as Bud), so it has to be No. 2.
See you later...
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