Many many happy birthday wishes later, and I still think the day would have been better spent cleaning the house. Or rendering order in those piles of paper.
I am not built for frustration, but I experience it more often than I should.
As time goes by, it turns out I am more interested in feasible projects.
Related to all of the above, I did the laundry yesterday. Now let me find a picture for you.
When you’re born you’re zero years old. Then you turn one year old. Therefore the birthday celebrates the year that has passed, not the one that’s coming. Maybe this is, sometime, the annoying thing with birthdays. They measure what’s gone. In other words I have been 34 the entire year behind me. I didn’t have a problem with 33, 30 was fine. At 25 I took pride in being a quarter of a century into the world. So what do I make of 34? Maybe like they do in buildings and planes, when they skip 13. 34 can be my 13. By the way, I don’t have a problem with 13. So, it’s settled then. I am going on 35.
I am writing about this because I had the worse sleep last night, hot flashes and all. For the first time I have heard my neighbour’s bed screeching. How awkward is that?! And pretty much all the noises going around in my block of flats. Veve’s called just as I managed to fall asleep, and the ring scared the living light out of me. She was having a beer in my honour. Thank you 
Plus the spoilers. It looks like a lot of people were afraid to miss my birthday and I kept receiving happy birthday wishes in advance. Oh well, I will try to live deal with it.
As for my new life, I have set my alarm for seven and woke up at six. A.M. Without it. Is that a sign or what?
In other news, the best present has just woke up and kissed me. I am happy.
Do I have to stick to what I say I am? Do I stick to what I say I am? Do you see the difference between the two? Being out is a confrontation with myself first and then with the others.
It calmed down the hysterical traffic and less to none horns could be heard. Cars were like tip-toeing. I was lagging behind, the calmest of all and well tired, taking my time in the heated seat, in the music of the perfect car sound system, with my license plates from not around here. The occasional traffic bully would recklessly speed by. I guess snow doesn’t work on everybody, reminding me of those daddy’s boys, their girlfriends authentically impressed or just scared shitless next to them in the front seat, beginners drivers with an edge cutting sharp through the night and traffic lights. Daddy’s paid for the car, daddy’s gonna pay for the scratch too, unless that scratch is fatal.
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Hahaha. Really! I am freshly back from my stroll on Istiklal.
I need something.
This morning feels like a crossover between the extras in Resident Evil (
one,
two and
three) and the bomb in
Sunshine. The temperatures are expected to drop significantly for this time of the year, and I am expected in Craiova. Under the circumstanes the inventor of coffee can give herself or himself a pat on the back.
My life is the same, but I am changing, allowing for the harmless occasional contradiction. I have been visiting the idea of writing about my past love and conquests.
In a time when our love was young and deep, and despite that I had upset and hurt you then, I have taken you to see
a film we both agreed afterwards was good. Now I own the film and you are with someone else.
I hate the cold wet leaves, their sparkling yellow from the distance of my window, all the way down. My spirit is not there yet. Wherever there is… I will admit I am not completely to terms with myself.
Yesterday I had to cut a lime with a fork. Sometime it feels like I have been doing this all along.
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