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I suppose I might celebrate a bit, because I actually did finish the paper, though badly. And I would, if I had the time and didn't feel generally crappy.
Remember what I said about grown-upishness not having caught up with me? It's true. Unfortunately not only in the positive sense, but also - very much - in the negative. I can't decide, I can't stick to things, and I'm about world champion at procrastinating.
I have a book I badly, urgently need to return to the Institute of Japanese Culture. I have finished a term paper that I can't turn in anyway. I wanted to do that today, which was utopical either way, but as it was, I couldn't even have driven to Cologne if I had finished it earlier than one and a half hours ago so I didn't need that book anymore. It's winter again, oh yes. It has been snowing all afternoon, even in Cologne, it seems, because there was something like a total of 200km of traffic jams around that dear city. No chance. Even trying to reach the highway, which is about 4 km from my home, took over half an hour, and here people should be used to snow better than the Colognians. I didn't make it back to Solingen either, so I couldn't even say good-bye to Jörg. I didn't get anything done aside from writing that damn paper. Right now I hate myself.
(I also hate my printer, by the way. Not only does it need nudges every now and then, it hasn't printed the damn page numbers. Arrgh.)
Now tomorrow we're going on vacations - me, my parents and little Ricardo. I know I should be happy because I'm so lucky and all, but to be honest, I'm not looking forward to it much. I mean, it's sure going to be fun and all. But all I have now is a bad conscience because if I didn't go on vacations, I wouldn't have had to waste all day on that paper and I might at least have done a few of the things that were expected of me, rightly so. (Of course, I'd have had the same effect if I hadn't relied on finishing the paper before today.)
Well. The harm's done, I'm crying again, and it doesn't help anything. We'll have to contend ourselves with a good-bye by phone, and our thoughts, I suppose.
So, my dear, light in my self-produced darkness: I hope you have a nice week-end and week, this one and the next, in spite of everything. I'm glad we saw each other this morning, at least. I love you, I'm thinking of you, and I'm sorry.
To all others, be seeing you in ten days. Be good.
Remember what I said about grown-upishness not having caught up with me? It's true. Unfortunately not only in the positive sense, but also - very much - in the negative. I can't decide, I can't stick to things, and I'm about world champion at procrastinating.
I have a book I badly, urgently need to return to the Institute of Japanese Culture. I have finished a term paper that I can't turn in anyway. I wanted to do that today, which was utopical either way, but as it was, I couldn't even have driven to Cologne if I had finished it earlier than one and a half hours ago so I didn't need that book anymore. It's winter again, oh yes. It has been snowing all afternoon, even in Cologne, it seems, because there was something like a total of 200km of traffic jams around that dear city. No chance. Even trying to reach the highway, which is about 4 km from my home, took over half an hour, and here people should be used to snow better than the Colognians. I didn't make it back to Solingen either, so I couldn't even say good-bye to Jörg. I didn't get anything done aside from writing that damn paper. Right now I hate myself.
(I also hate my printer, by the way. Not only does it need nudges every now and then, it hasn't printed the damn page numbers. Arrgh.)
Now tomorrow we're going on vacations - me, my parents and little Ricardo. I know I should be happy because I'm so lucky and all, but to be honest, I'm not looking forward to it much. I mean, it's sure going to be fun and all. But all I have now is a bad conscience because if I didn't go on vacations, I wouldn't have had to waste all day on that paper and I might at least have done a few of the things that were expected of me, rightly so. (Of course, I'd have had the same effect if I hadn't relied on finishing the paper before today.)
Well. The harm's done, I'm crying again, and it doesn't help anything. We'll have to contend ourselves with a good-bye by phone, and our thoughts, I suppose.
So, my dear, light in my self-produced darkness: I hope you have a nice week-end and week, this one and the next, in spite of everything. I'm glad we saw each other this morning, at least. I love you, I'm thinking of you, and I'm sorry.
To all others, be seeing you in ten days. Be good.
