I wonder if the people next door have some kind of surveillance system set up outside my house. It wouldn't be difficult, because the (empty) house next door towers over my living room (which is also my office) and there must be someone there with a camera, or at the very least a pair of binoculars, waiting for me to stop doing the "other" jobs on my list, pour myself a cup of tea, and settle down to write.
That must be what happens. Otherwise, how would they know the exact moment to turn on their noise making machine to the EXTREMELY LOUD setting and then shout over the top of it to each other in angry voices for hours on end about exactly what to do next?
Coldest morning since 2002 or something this morning. They reported in the paper that it was particularly chilly in a place called Coldstream. Well, honestly.
Up to part five of Crime and Punishment . Thought last night that in books such as this one there should be encouragements along the way ("nearly there!" and "the ending is worth it!" etc). Perhaps a graded system ("you are now 80% more likely to say something clever at a dinner party", or "congratulations, you are now 20 pages further into this book than most people").
I am going to be so smug when I finish this book.
I hear your pain Lorin... I now have a bedroom AND a office in one, and was pleasantly suprised to find out they are renovating the flat next door two weeks ago. No, i dont mean just one of the flats, I mean the entire building. And in true German style, the workers are up and working, taking the facade off the building with jack hammer drills at PRECISELY 7:30am. *yawn*
While I'm typing, I will comment on another of your posts regarding working from home... Because I also identified with you. Most days are now consisting of internal dialogues with The Waifs, most often replacing the lyrics of 'London Still' with 'Berlin Still', because not only do I lack social contact, when I do have it, I've got no idea what anybody is saying. So my little 'internet whine' I'm having right now could be the only verbalisation today that isn't with a song...
Sometimes I pretend I am a sheep herder (no, not like Brokeback) and try to remember working from home isn't the first occupation where you don't get to talk to anyone for days on end. Maybe I should compile a list of occupations where you never get to speak to people... I will stick it to the wall and glance up whenever I start mumbling:
I took the U-Bahn over to Alexanderplatz
To wander around
I bought some funky records
With that old Beethoven sound
And I miss you like my left arm
That's been lost in (don't mention the war)
Today I dream of home and not of Berlin anymore
I'm in Berlin still
I'm in Berlin still
Yeah I'm in Berlin still
I'm sorry. Maybe it's the heat. Or maybe because I've been awake since 7:30am.
n
Oh Nick, Nick. What a sad and beautiful interpretation you've rendered here for us all - though I must say it does rather bring me close to tears myself (having been up since Lord knows when on account of some banging).
Don't mention the war... pft! You make me laff. Although of course you probably couldn't mention the war, could you, if you don't speak German.
And I suppose too that it should make me feel a little better about having only a few friends, most of whom serve me beverages, when in fact what I do have in common with them is a common language and the power of speech.
And speaking of hours, there is a film in the Festival that I'm looking forward to because it's called 4.30 on account of the writer thinking that 4.30 in the morning is the loneliest time on earth.
I'm sure I've had that thought. That does make me clever? Or just tired?
Anyway, you keep writing comments instead of speaking, and if you're the only human contact in my day, I no complain.