A Tuesday. Got a really cool picture of an indoor apothecary and some other cool pics of the rain soaked streets of historic industrial Darmstadt, a key strategic location bombed relentlessly by the allies in WWII so as to immobilize transportation of ammunitions, medical supplies, and even food. The shell casings of American produced bombs and bullets still lay embedded within the fractured asphalt and cobblestone, the very likes of which I traversed on my merry little way to work. Anyway, the dart board I promised is just above.
The desk was completed, with no small effort, and a general comfort is already setting in, which is a good sign. With any luck, in 6 months, my soul won’t be torturously screaming from within like some francis bacon painting. And that is truly, truly, all you can ask from your 9-to-5. I think this one may just deliver.
At the end of the day, the office cleaning lady stopped by again and immediately spoke English, which makes me think it’s her native language. I like that. She’s quite nice, too. But when she asked if she could vacuum the office and I said yes, it made me remember that I had yet to take a picture of the dart board. So, the last thing I did before leaving the room was take my shiny little camera right off the desk just as she walked around to start vacuuming there. A pit formed in my stomach, but there was no going back. What could I say? Sorry, um, I need to go take a picture of this dart board in the other room? No shot. And now she 100%, DEFINITELY thinks I’m elitist scum. I sense the beginning of a war neither side wants but nobody can prevent. It also doesn’t help that I can’t remember her name and only know her as ‘cleaning lady’. Please, spirits of the fates, do not let this be the first domino in my unwitting demise.
See you tomorrow for hump day.
Nick
Nick Denardi 