Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Aborted Mission

The husband and I went to a Greek restaurant last night.


The interior hasn't changed in nearly 15 years, nor the waiters.
We ate mountains if food, drank Retsina and Ouzo (just a wee bit).
There were movie-plans chucked into the equation, but my fever was spiking at almost 39 degrees and I wasn't up to it.
Early-ish to bed, early to rise.

I'm trying to get through the week by studying a lot.
I have interesting stuff (Neurocognition!) to get my teeth into.
Next week, Son#2 will become a 7-year-old, I will swallow a camera and the doctor will take a biopsy of my stomach.
This is all getting very old.
And I am now tired: pain, fever, tired and forgetful, and not forgetting my job.
Makes me feel a bit on the lower side of the slopes.
Life should be simpler, you know?


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