It seems so much had gone so wrong with so many people the previous months. Now that we are talking agian, I feel like the old me. After the comedy of errors, I went downtown and had 3 cups of coffee: One all by myself, one with M., and when M. went home, I had one more with Sylvia. Then I bought some books: Madonna’s latest for my son, and two little pocket Penguins for me, On Seeing and Noticing (Alain De Botton) and Otherwise Pandemonium (Hornby). I started reading the first on the bus and it is so entertaining. Suddenly, I have some work to do. I have to start translating a stupid book and write an article I have to submit by Friday. It seems so boring . All I want to do is listen to music and loiter around bookshops. M. was so right after all. I am silly. I’m becoming one of those women who just stare at the wall and the wall stares back, and it is such a wonderful relationship. And then an insect flies by and that’s the most important event of the day.
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