Wednesday, 9 September 2009


I've been working nine hours (both MacDee and freelance translating)
Have more than nine bruises (I'm sure)
It's just a few minutes past nine (now, anyways)
I have nine windows open (Wooh for multi-tasking)
Hoping Ralf scored a nine for his exam today (That's an American A, I think >.> Or a German 1 or 2?)
And today's date would be nine, nine, two thousand and nine.

Today was the day I was hoping to be special.
In a way. With good news.
Maybe that Tamara would get news about getting transplanted..
Or that arguments were over at home..
Or that we didn't have to go back to Egypt in two weeks..

No such luck.
Besides, I'm getting the strangest rash ever. Which I had in Egypt.
Little bumps on my skin which aren't any particular color (ie. Skin colour), which itch like hell until I give in and scratch myself open.
They're not like any insect bites, nor do I know that I ate anything to give me this kind of rash.
Conclusion: My allergy is from Egypt.
Observation: Not helping me much, knowing that. Doesn't change a thing.

The Gypsy


  1. Tomorrow, I go to the shrink so he can give me pills. I get magical, magical xanax either way. Which is a short-term solution, admittedly, but tomorrow would at least begin the long run solution. Assuming the old one needs to be changed. Maybe it does.

    *hugs* I hope you're doing okay.

  2. Get this: after all the horrible crap that happened today, I had someone order a pizza, make me wait half an hour in the middle of a rainstorm, and then steal $36 worth of pizza. What could be worse? Oh yeah: my manager talking down to me like it's my fault. Eff that, right?

    So I quit my job. I can't deal with it anymore. *sigh* Just abject depression now, and thinking of people I'll miss.

  3. Apparently I become a workaholic when I'm trying to avoid depression. I'm almost two weeks ahead of schedule in my classes and I've finished two job applications. That's just in the past twenty-four hours, too.