I caught a cold; well the summer is over so it’s time to get sick again.
New day new excuses same old story, next week. But tomorrow never comes, right? But then maybe…
I am waiting for her letter and it’s a funny thing to experience how I make others feel most of the time and somehow I know if it was my turn it would take even more time and this “your turn” “my turn” stuff is silly anyway… but then…
Then this and then that and I miss the Cafés and the feeling of my pen, so next week maybe…
