Conversation With Myself

It's 4:23pm now and it's a very hot afternoon, but it is certainly not a lazy one, oh well, at least not for me. I did an induction course in uni in the morning for the demonstration work that I will be taking up later in the year, and the session went on for far too long in a really warm laboratory with bad ventilation. Straight after that, I had to rush back to my office to get my passport and then over to the city for an x-ray examination for my work permit application which, incidentally, took much longer than expected to come through.

So here I am at Rue Bebelons again, trying to take it a little easier, the fourth time in six days. Maybe I am truly turning into one of those regular sad barflies who hang out here far too often. I'm penning this entry on paper trying to kill some time while waiting for Clara to join me for a drink. A coffee on my left, and a ciggie resting on the right, perfetto. It has been an eventful enough past coupla days to keep my mind of that issue, hanging out with my new housemate and getting to know him better, clearing up my old apartment, being hard at work and hanging out with friends in the evenings. I s'pose I needed all these to keep my sanity in check too. If not, I will probably be going mental or something just having recurrent/incessant thoughts about last Friday night...

..and so I am home now, and I realised I haven't been chillin' at home at such an early hour for a while now. The temperature ceratinly hasn't gone down at all, but I s'pose I still could handle it, after a cold shower and a huge bowl of ice-cream. I probably should have an early night too, since I haven't been sleeping that well for the past few nights as I was having too many weird dreams. What's with someone being killed by a shark while trying to save a friend of mine and being in my current place except everything is orientated asymetrically and then passing out in the toilet and to truly being woken up in the middle of the night, it's all a bit much like that.

So what happens after Saturday? Will the person cancel out on me? Maybe. I am not at all optimisstic, you could say I am prepared for the worst. If everything does fall apart, how long do I need before I can pick myself up again? Or can I even? Will I really say everything I want to to the person or will I just sit there like a blinking/grinning idiot? Oh well, talk about losing myself. If I do behave that way, then it's certainly not me at all. I am well-known (be it in a famous or infamous way) for being vocal and frank and totally communicative and is never intimidated by anyone in anyway. Have I finally met my nemesis? Is this the end of the cynical bastard in me?

And the most important question is, what sorta day will I wake up to on Sunday?