Washed out day
After all my ramblings in the recent posts, i don't feel like talking today. Perhaps it's the air conditioning in the office, cutting to my spine as the morning grows stronger. Or maybe it's the usual Monday blues. Or the fact that my hormones have declared themselves on Japanese strike.

Other options include yesterday's sleepless night, half waiting for Pablo to get home from work, half waiting for my extreme tiredness to kick into my mind. I remember looking at the alarm clock on my bedside table stool (!), watching the hours flow by. 2am. 3.15am. Must sleep.

I spent a good part of the night watching a rental film. The latest Bertolucci: The Dreamers. It's good. It's sweet and sour. When it was over i flicked through the extras and discovered it was getting really late.

This morning everything looks washed out. Especially my face in the mirror. I just need another cup of coffee, right?