A selection of thoughts written tween the hours of 10 and 2

With a whirr that interrupts the Landau Orchestra the blinds crawl up the great windows and the gothic spire looms before me. The clouds themselves part to let the light in. I sit in this cold, hard library chair and the sun, something we haven't seen much of lately, creeps in and makes me sneeze. My heart swells a little at the romance of the scene outside.

And just like that, the whirring noise disturbs my thoughts as the blinds come back down and I take one last look through half-lidded eyes and a too-long fringe. I have next Monday off. Maybe I'll get a haircut.

I'm studying gender again in History. I can't escape it. As a woman, naturally I care. At least it's modern history. Less "nuns, ahhh!" and more "women are boring and silly, lets laugh at them."

What is this song? Oh, man I know it, I know it. C'mon hurry up introduction. Oh, there we go, it's the Eels. Huh. I suck at recognising music.

I don't know whether it is the light or the angle but the window is doing crazy things. I can see the stacks trailing off into the sky and my daft nose floating in the middle of them. The roof in front of me is green and rusty. I think it's the hideous Boyd Orr that everyone hates. I love the view up here. I love going up to East Kilbride, or rather coming down from East Kilbride at that dip in the road where Glasgow stretches out before me and my heart soars. I remember drives through Argyle, round Loch Fyne. I kayaked in Loch Long. I'll be fieldtripping to Loch Tay. I've never been to Loch Ness. One of the Christophers did. He said he saw the monster. Ben who could pick his nose with his tongue confirmed the story.

The light and smell here reminds me of Iceland. Those brightly dull mornings. We went there in March when I was wee. Snow towering above my head. I was four and a quarter so I kept telling my dad's camera. "I'm four annna quarter and we are in Iceland and it is snowing and go way I wanna sleep now Dad. Stop being silly."

Laura and I used to say snow came from East Kilbride as we watched the cars come down the windy hill. She suggested we elope there until I pointed out elope meant running away and getting married.

There's a guy sitting next to me asleep. He has nice thighs.

My plaster is folded in the creases of my palm. When I stretch out it's as if the plaster is my skin.

The air conditioning makes my nose run and my arms shiver. I feel like I'm in an airport. Our flight was delayed once coming home from Rome or Barcelona. Everybody lay on the floor; huddled, bored and Glaswegian. It was cosy.

Y'know what, I'm goddamn proud of myself for being here. I told everybody I was going to get in and then I did. And I got an A in Archaeology.

Blinds are up again, the guy rearranges himself. Those thighs look comfy. If I was a lot more attractive and a little more crazy maybe I'd sit on them. I like sitting on people.

My hands smell of play-doh. They always do on a Monday after yesterday's clean. Rubber gloves? Chemicals? This looks like a job for science. Room is brighter now and emptier. My reflection beside me is mirror clear. I look scruffy. The guy is fast asleep again. My bic is sticky from the plaster. Plautus remains unread. The main building looks beautiful in the muted light. I want to jump that boy. Is that wrong? Wrong that I want him to wake up and see me and ask me out and take me back to his cramped apartment.

Valentine's Day is approaching. Dunno why I thought of that. How dull. Profess your love with chocolates and roses. What does it matter if you don't love her anyway. Although the roses on Byres Road look beautiful, but then they always do.

Once again love drives me on that loosener of limbs, bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done - Sappho. Found on the toilet roll dispenser in the library toilet and I had to note it down.

Becky Stark is in my ears now. I want to scoop her up in my arms and carry her away. She would be wearing a white dress with flowers in her hair. But no time for love, Doctor Jones. Time for Sweeney Todd.