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Monday, 22. June 2015
Social calls
ell, 19:32h
About an hour ago my Admiral, aka Mum, called and said she needed to talk to me. She was already in town and would drop by later, she wouldn't tell me on the phone why. And since then it occurred to me that she had already called on Saturday, although she had right well known that I had to work and wouldn't come home on the weekend. And after I had told her my shift-times she had waited until she knew I'd be home, to call again.
But that makes me wonder: What is so urgent it can't wait until I come home next weekend, but that it could wait three days and has to be discussed in person?
Usually, when I was little and she said, we needed to talk, it meant that I was in trouble. Most of the time in big trouble. However I think I am old enough to decide what to do and what not, besides I'm not even living at home anymore and I can't think of anything that I might have done that would merit a personal visit (it is 50 km from home to here after all).
And then the usual things come to my mind: Someone died, someone's ill, our house burned down, she crashed her car... But wait, then she wouldn't be able to come here. Also she could have told me all of that on the phone.
The only other thing I an think of, is that she broke up with her Companion, but that's kind of ridiculous. It wouldn't concern me that much, and I'm not exactly the person to go to for that. Plus if she really would be in the weepy mood some are after something like that, she'd either cried at me on the phone, or, if she really needed to, would have come to me right away and not gone to town first. Apart from that she's not that kind of person.
At least she gave me the time to clean up a little, and so I spend the last hour washing dishes and contemplating about what might be so very important. Now I'm done with that and still have an hour until she'll show up, to contemplate what franchise I could drown myself in should it be bad news. And try not to be thinking about the fact that I still have to write that essay, which now I can't concentrate on at all.
But that makes me wonder: What is so urgent it can't wait until I come home next weekend, but that it could wait three days and has to be discussed in person?
Usually, when I was little and she said, we needed to talk, it meant that I was in trouble. Most of the time in big trouble. However I think I am old enough to decide what to do and what not, besides I'm not even living at home anymore and I can't think of anything that I might have done that would merit a personal visit (it is 50 km from home to here after all).
And then the usual things come to my mind: Someone died, someone's ill, our house burned down, she crashed her car... But wait, then she wouldn't be able to come here. Also she could have told me all of that on the phone.
The only other thing I an think of, is that she broke up with her Companion, but that's kind of ridiculous. It wouldn't concern me that much, and I'm not exactly the person to go to for that. Plus if she really would be in the weepy mood some are after something like that, she'd either cried at me on the phone, or, if she really needed to, would have come to me right away and not gone to town first. Apart from that she's not that kind of person.
At least she gave me the time to clean up a little, and so I spend the last hour washing dishes and contemplating about what might be so very important. Now I'm done with that and still have an hour until she'll show up, to contemplate what franchise I could drown myself in should it be bad news. And try not to be thinking about the fact that I still have to write that essay, which now I can't concentrate on at all.
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Thursday, 18. June 2015
I can't believe it's Friday already...
ell, 23:36h
How old are you again, kid?
SEWENTEEN, Sir!
I was never that young...
No, you were younger.
A little joke, comprised of two quotes from Chekov, we came up with last year for Liz' birthday. And tonight is the last time I'll be able to use it, for in less than three hours, she'll turn eighteen. And I can't believe we're there already.
It's a year, since I graduated. A whole year in which we haven't seen each other in person regularly. And I'm quite surprised I've survived that so far.
But I also can't believe it in a more short-ranged sense. It's Friday. Only one week until this practical period is over. On one hand I am quite glad I'll be away. Not that I don't like the work, I'm just not overly happy with the ward I'm currently in. It's not the people. Or the patients. But somehow it's just not my world.
On the other hand I dread going to school again. A) Because there's that at least two-page essay I'm supposed to have written until the first day of school. B) Because of several talks and tests coming up which I have up to now successfully managed to avoid thinking about, and thus haven't learned for. And most of all, C) Because I'll be forced to see and talk to certain people of my class again.
Which means that every time I think of it, there is this voice in my head, screaming: No, Mum, I don't want to go back to school!. While I don't even know where that quote is from.
But for now I'm only thinking two days ahead, at most. That's the only way to keep alive out here. And for today that means:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIZ!
SEWENTEEN, Sir!
I was never that young...
No, you were younger.
A little joke, comprised of two quotes from Chekov, we came up with last year for Liz' birthday. And tonight is the last time I'll be able to use it, for in less than three hours, she'll turn eighteen. And I can't believe we're there already.
It's a year, since I graduated. A whole year in which we haven't seen each other in person regularly. And I'm quite surprised I've survived that so far.
But I also can't believe it in a more short-ranged sense. It's Friday. Only one week until this practical period is over. On one hand I am quite glad I'll be away. Not that I don't like the work, I'm just not overly happy with the ward I'm currently in. It's not the people. Or the patients. But somehow it's just not my world.
On the other hand I dread going to school again. A) Because there's that at least two-page essay I'm supposed to have written until the first day of school. B) Because of several talks and tests coming up which I have up to now successfully managed to avoid thinking about, and thus haven't learned for. And most of all, C) Because I'll be forced to see and talk to certain people of my class again.
Which means that every time I think of it, there is this voice in my head, screaming: No, Mum, I don't want to go back to school!. While I don't even know where that quote is from.
But for now I'm only thinking two days ahead, at most. That's the only way to keep alive out here. And for today that means:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIZ!
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Wednesday, 17. June 2015
Promises to keep
ell, 00:02h
Today I had the first choir practice in over a month, and to say it with one word, it was absolutely wonderful. It is something that keeps me going, something I can look forward to. And yet...
Next weekend we are going to sing in church. That means that today was the second last practice before that, and the talk started what is to come when, as well as rehearsing some shorter pieces, like the kyrie-calls which made me think of my old church-choir. And how I miss it. It's really true that you only miss something when it's gone, but the worst of it, when I had to leave, due to school getting harder, I was just starting to really get into it, and practically it's only a hop away.
Plus, there's that promise that's still hanging in the air. A promise I made to our guitarist / technician there, without whom I'd basically not be where I am today, guitar- and bass-guitar-playing-wise. Funny, because although he had always been much better than I am, he always said that he couldn't play, but I could.
After I had gone, I had been on the next concerts, their concerts are once a year around Christmas, and he had said it was sad we'd never play a duet. And somehow I promised him that we would. Back then I also thought that we would. Now that doesn't seem so likely anymore.
To the last concert I didn't even come. I had to work. And then, in January, I found my new choir. Somehow ironic that they also have practice on Tuesday evening, just like my old choir. But that kind of settled it, I wouldn't go back. I wouldn't make it, simply didn't have the time. Or the money for the train-ride each week.
And yet, I hope that I find some way to keep this promise, and, off course, I have a plan. In a little more than two years, I'll have my finals. Then, if all goes as planned, I'll have half a year until I'll start studying. In that half a year, I can go back. And then play one more concert, and play a duet...
... That is, if they'll take me on. And if he'll still be there. And if he'll still want to play that duet. And if I haven't gotten to attached to my new choir by then...
Next weekend we are going to sing in church. That means that today was the second last practice before that, and the talk started what is to come when, as well as rehearsing some shorter pieces, like the kyrie-calls which made me think of my old church-choir. And how I miss it. It's really true that you only miss something when it's gone, but the worst of it, when I had to leave, due to school getting harder, I was just starting to really get into it, and practically it's only a hop away.
Plus, there's that promise that's still hanging in the air. A promise I made to our guitarist / technician there, without whom I'd basically not be where I am today, guitar- and bass-guitar-playing-wise. Funny, because although he had always been much better than I am, he always said that he couldn't play, but I could.
After I had gone, I had been on the next concerts, their concerts are once a year around Christmas, and he had said it was sad we'd never play a duet. And somehow I promised him that we would. Back then I also thought that we would. Now that doesn't seem so likely anymore.
To the last concert I didn't even come. I had to work. And then, in January, I found my new choir. Somehow ironic that they also have practice on Tuesday evening, just like my old choir. But that kind of settled it, I wouldn't go back. I wouldn't make it, simply didn't have the time. Or the money for the train-ride each week.
And yet, I hope that I find some way to keep this promise, and, off course, I have a plan. In a little more than two years, I'll have my finals. Then, if all goes as planned, I'll have half a year until I'll start studying. In that half a year, I can go back. And then play one more concert, and play a duet...
... That is, if they'll take me on. And if he'll still be there. And if he'll still want to play that duet. And if I haven't gotten to attached to my new choir by then...
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