My day begins with the alarm ringing loudly. I place the duvet covers even more firmly over my ears. It’s a Sunday, but I need to head to the library. My mother, who accompanied me from Kolkata to London, has gone back home today.
At seven, I amble out of bed, brush my teeth and check my backpack. Wallet, check. Notebook, check. Oyster card, check. Seminar paper, check. Good, everything I need. Before I head out, I need to eat breakfast. I’ve made a habit of skipping breakfast and have absolutely no intention of fainting mid-morning.
I sit down on my bed and begin to eat a banana and a pain au chocolat, which is just a fancy name for a chocolate-filled croissant. I’m craving a home cooked breakfast, but I realize that’s not going to happen in a long time given the facts that I won’t be going home and I don’t know how to cook.