By Maryanna Gabriel
The morning has been a bit of a hurkle-durkle.
Been longing to say that for ever so long. Hurkle-durkle that is - meaning the Scottish term for being in bed long after it's time to get up. A more accurate description would be clinging madly to my soft duvet and pillows and cherishing my comfy bed with every Scottish cell of my body.
The reason for this is because I'm getting ready to fly overseas and goodness knows, I would love one of those tickets that boasts leg room, seats that lie back with warm blankies, a specialized gourmet menu served on china, but oh, no-o-o. I have to do this the old-fashioned, I'm-a-starving-student way, lodged upright for hours on end, praying that somehow I'll survive. The reason for this self abuse is that I have a writing workshop to attend in the land of the gods. Too good to refuse. So, I'm wondering what Greek influences shall assail me during my sojourn.