(no subject)
I know I've been kind of absent lately, but sometimes words feel so pointless and inadequate. Or maybe it's I who feels pointless and inadequate, and on the whole am happier ignoring myself. Everyone around me is moving on with their lives, careers, family; G. has a job interview in Hamburg and my Russian teacher, as it turns out, will be moving to La Palma with her husband. Meanwhile, I'm stuck, I'm frozen, I've been struck for the last ten years, and probably will remain stuck, since I seem to be totally incapable of getting myself unstuck.
Spent most of yesterday's holiday going through another 90-100 pages of my Excel book. Exciting, isn't it.
I'm happiest when I go for long walks; maybe this is another method of avoiding myself? Sometimes I wonder.
Spent most of yesterday's holiday going through another 90-100 pages of my Excel book. Exciting, isn't it.
I'm happiest when I go for long walks; maybe this is another method of avoiding myself? Sometimes I wonder.