Worst working day ever When you're an intern, feeling incompetent is okay because you'll return to a life of academic security after the summer vacation. When you have a real job, it's rather frustrating to know that this won't be a fleeting experience. I reproach the architect for designing a building with walls of glass but without a single window to throw myself out of.
Five more days until my vacation (aka "days of endless sleep") I've been overtired for so long that I now yawn through my nostrils. It might look strange but I prefer my boss to think that I'm weird instead of unconcentrated.
Finding Annie The Place Schuman close to the European Institutions is a landmark which can't be overlooked. When I moved to Brussels, a big gaudy tent was placed in the center of the roundabout hosting a weird exhibition on the European Union's history. It's gone now. I mourn the loss. Really. Its eye cancer inducing qualities ensured that people could find the way to my apartment instead of listening to my endless "Okay, first you have to follow the "European Institutions"-signs... and then somewhere you turn left... or right, depending on the direction you're coming from... then take the second left... or the third.. I live at the end of that road. Oh, maybe you'd also wanna know the street name...?"-ramblings on their cell phone while driving through a one way street in the wrong direction.
Fortunately, another monstrosity has come to my rescue: a giant ugly baby sculpture now adorns the roundabout. It's pink. It wears diapers. It has a big sticker saying "Stop landmines" on its back. And what has a giant baby to do with landmines? It's missing a leg. Just ignore the fact that babies lack the capacity to walk upright, let alone the good luck of losing only one leg when stepping into a landmine. If you really want to find my apartment, you just have to put up with bad taste. Or buy a navigation system.
Yuppified My fridge is a source of booze (and of two week old milk I still didn't throw out) rather than of food so I got really excited about the opening of a neighbourhood deli: it's opened until 10 pm. Shopping hours usually limit my food intake to the corporate cafeteria, restaurants and ramen noodles, so some microwaveable Tandoori Chicken and Basmati rice seem like a good change (unfortunately it means no alleviation to my budget; it's incredible how much money you can spend even when most shops are closed when you get out of work). I'm only a golf weekend short of my earlobes growing pearl earrings.
Nothing to blog about because I don't recall the obscenities the drunken guy on my way to work shouted at me because they were in French Go figure how exciting my life can get when getting up half an hour later than usual means living dangerously. Those are the times when I arrive in the office at 8:30 am.