Wszystko dla Mamony

2004-01-17 | 9:08 p.m.

Polish school? A slow day trudging through technicalities of the matura and stories of atrocities committed during World War 2. Pot smoke from the undesirable element in Polish school left me enraged and hateful. No dance lesson = cause for celebration. A return home, talked to JP for a while, read a lot, translated stuff, generally had an all right time.

Yesterday? Constant attempts to retreat into the world of 1984 when stuck in a room with FIVE, count 'em, FIVE couples who are all fond of the PDAs. A good viewing of Gross Point Blank and leaving behind of my backpack in Ashish's van. Dag.

Tomorrow? Tentative birthday party; I have no present to give and I have a lot of colloquium work to do, and so I cannot let things go to hell.

Monday? Hopefully a smidgen of free time. Hopefully.

Gosh darnit, people. I'm like freakin' Werther himself, without the suicide, and IT'S TEARING ME UP INSIDE. On a lighter note... ah, screw it. Any attempt to force myself to have a positive view ends up in sadness anyway, so why break the fragile emotional equilibrium?

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