Chelsea Morning

I’m in Chelsea, England. It’s a famous, lovely, and pretty globalized little town that has seen some shit go down in its days (at various times it was home to Oscar Wilde, Mark Twain, and the Rolling Stones, in addition to being the birthing ground of King’s Road hippies and British Invasion punks)

We’re staying in a house with my dad, sister, and stepfamily. Hotel prices were so expensive and rental prices were so cheap we decided to  go with the latter option. It’s a little creepy because the family has pictures of themselves everywhere, so it feels like we’re squatting. My theory is they are kept them all up so we would see them more as real people, thereby easing our klepto urges (if you ever want to make sure your stuff doesn’t get stolen, put a picture of a baby somewhere – I read about some study that showed people are much more likely to return wallets with pictures of babies inside, as opposed to pictures of puppies or yourself)

I have very little idea what time it is. The morning sometime. There seems to be no way of finding out – none of the automatic clocks are set in the house, and this laptop is on Atlanta time. True I could just look up what the time difference is. True I could search out a traditional clock (I actually think I hear one ticking in the background). But all of these options require effort – besides, I’m kind of enjoying letting the morning play out just by its light and not by its time label.

In my psychology e-book there was a section on how lights have caused people to live by an unnatural 25-hour day schedule. When they barrage animals with the kind of light schedule we have, they adopt this schedule too, and become more groggy, confused, and lethargic as a result. I can honestly only remember a handful of times in my life when I’ve woken up totally refreshed and energized, but I bet back in the day that was the norm. It never seems right that we live lifestyles where at least a quarter of the class is half-asleep every morning, and where many need a caffeine jumpstart just to function at all. This kind of thing brings out the uni-bomber in me.

So in a week we’re taking a ferry to Belfast, Ireland, where we’ll be checking out my stepmom’s house, among other things. My entries will probably be sporadic as usual, but I’ll try to get down the trip highlights!


One Response to “Chelsea Morning”

  1. fasisi Says:

    You should try to catch a Chelsea Football Game while you’re there.

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