Entries Tagged as 'work works'

Wish

This coffee I am having is not giving me more guts for the day ahead. Not even more time. Actually it’s giving me less time. However I am lingering around the cup like there is no tomorrow.

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Daily revolution

Relax, nobody gets hurt. That’s mostly around myself. Take yesterday, for instance. The moment I got out of the house, I caught a little fly between my eyelids. Isn’t that special?! OK, OK, it was my righ eye, but still. Thirty minutes, a panic attack, two pharmacies, and half a bottle of eye wash later I have managed to remove the little thing. It has not survived the above mentioned hardships. Do you know the joke with the crocodile tamer and the blonde? Yeah, that’s how I felt, only nostrils dried from the antihistamines.

In other unrelated news, I have been to the bookshop. That’s the thief of my heart, now that the boyfriend is in the mountains. Buying books, underline buy, not read, makes me feel intellectual. Of course, at a cost. Also being the gay I am I have bought Madonna’s latest. And Lenny Kravitz’s. Tell you what, you wannabe DJs, these two don’t go together, not for the time being, I’ve tried.

And now off to work, celebrating by doing this Labour Day.

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Obviously, moon on a wire

This is what one gets 6 am -ish. Today, on my window. Maybe I should get up this early more often.

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Mmm, neah.

The caption in French said “Marriage as a risk factor”

While the English one read “The Marital Disconnect!…”

“Until recently, governments and aid agencies assumed that HIV was being spread largely though high-risk behaviour such as participation in the sex industry,” explains Clark. “They devised prevention campaigns based on this assumption. In some regions of sub-Saharan Africa, however, marriage may be one of the biggest risk factors for acquiring HIV.”

… I, however, don’t think that marriage is a risk factor. I believe that unprotected sex is a risk factor. And it is a risk factor during marriage, and before, and after.

Bottle of wine instead of night cap

I am ending one fulfilling day with a bottle of wine the colour of the water round the public  library in  the middle of that Barcelona park with sand instead of grass and green parrots instead of dogs.

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Got fleas?

Yeah, sadly. Dead fleas by now, I hope.

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The things I have seen these days

Spring in the fields, sun in the sky.

A guy crying. He’s paralyzed from the neck down and he’s recently started to move his legs and regained touch on his arms. He’d need a stem cell operation he cannot possibly afford.

More than three dogs the very moment they were shitting. I wondered if it was some kind of sign.

A paraplegic with a light mental handicap. He would answer yes and no to the same question repeated within seconds, wearing the same facial expression.

A social housing meters away from the more opulent spa resort.

More sun and wind.

A beginner driver’s car that made me think both “Start small” and “Start big”. Either way, think pink.

A clouds factory.

A syphilitic, her father, her daughter, her daughter’s baby. We shook hands.

The sheer poverty behind the rich villas.

The best sarmale. I ate those.

A small ginger bread like house in the field. There was no running water, no electricity, and no fence, but the garden was minutely cared for and the home, although squicky poor, was also squicky clean. The women smiled and her face radiated.

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A little poetry

This March is featuring new leaves on the orange tree, the same old olive dispenser, a taller bamboo, so tall it could not fit into the frame, tulips and, alternatively, butterfly shaped gingerbread for the girls. And toy like cars similar to those in my remote childhood (for the boys?). You woke up at something past five to pack and catch your train and this has been the best weekend during which we have achieved yet again absolutely nothing: the sun was shining, the breeze was doing its wind business, we were being us. You are still featuring the cutest nose, the smoothest touch, that feeling I call interior calm. I wanted to write something about the best chocolate mousse and the occasionally mercurial change in behavioural style. But I have to run, live my life on a day by day basis, as Annie Lennox puts it.

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Zenysterical


I shall resign to the fact I cannot possibly accomplish all things. We are not even talking about the general “all things”, not even “all things on a deadline”, but, as you might have expected, “all things on a deadline for me”. Warning: energy level approaching an all time low.

Bling-bling


Lately I have this scary reflex to reward myself. OK, spoil myself. Somebody stop me before I become broke again.

Today was buying-presents-day for: birthdays, imminent departure and me.

May I ask where is the switch off for the things coming my way, workwise? Capacity exceeded. Progress zero.

Apparently I will call Mr. Right Mr. Talk To You Tomorrow and it will be a hello, how are you, no reproaches call. ‘Cause so says my adviser in the matter of the hearts.