Recently

I managed to attract a bunch of rhino- and coronaviruses, which now feel very comfy and homely in my nose and throat. My ultimate treatment is hardcore hat and scarf usage as well as tea consumption without measures. Meanwhile I set the thermostat (wait, we only have lousy radiators with a screw) to maximum, i.e. I'm boiling myself - wonder when I'm done and ready for consumption.

Several friends decided to enjoy «The Nutcracker» briefly before the Christmas holidays in the royal opera house. Hapless as I am, I don't even have a suit with me (lets conceal that my old suit is 3 sizes too big) and a mere 60 quid are no peanuts for an old curmudgeon like me.

Eventually, I grudgingly accepted that (even though my intransigence shouldn't permit) there is no easy way around the GRE. Thus, I'll make a more belligerent attempt and deceive the Americans that my virtues aggrandised over the past three weeks to the standard of a native speaker. ... Who am I fooling? Took me 5 minutes to construct this absolute nonsense sentence above.

Update: Wow, «The Nutcracker» ticket cost 79 sterling, usury. I somehow understand that ballet remains entertainment for the rich and elitist upper class.