Another long, looong day. Some hefty ups, some sticky downs. Negotiations for the pickies continue. I am such a restless creature.

Stepping out of the house with Lyra, on my way to doggie walk, I ran straight into Niko, whom I was confused by at the Wednesday rehearsal, because he was condescending and seemed bothered by having to be there. That was a bit of a WTF? But I am always happy to see him, and we walked the length of the longest street in the early morning, which felt like a good start of a long day.
(Yes, I knew it was going to be a long day.)

Gran had an interview for the local newspaper and I was with her, so the photographer wanted to take pickies of both and I felt terrible. I now have a whole new appreciation for the models. But good Gods the sound that camera makes. Forgive me, Markie, you are the most beautiful, but your big brother is simply impressive.

Upon getting home, the phone rang again and the journalist from the same newspaper asked for an interview, which I am now sorry I gave. Not because she would be unfriendly, because the lady was very friendly and a joy to talk to, but because they offered me between 7 and 21 euros for the photograph. The piece was about someone who managed to publish a pic in NG and they celebrated me by asking for the photo in exchange for 7 to 21 euros.They were hoping I would add it to the text for free. I could just see it: in the end it would just be the photo, as it "is such a cool photo" and my tiny name somewhere in the deep end.

Playing WoW is very hard, since the servers have been merged, because there seemed to be just enough players for it a few months back, but now so many people are trying to play at the same time, it takes an hour to log in, lagging is glacier-like and the matrix continues to sink through, characters falling though the graphics, the DC imminent. I love the game, it's awesome, I just can't play it. Friday night, lol.

G took me out for waffles and coke, a tiny date, after a long day. I had an odd craving for strawberries, although I almost never like them. I waited for him in a bookstore and saw another book I am going to buy, when I get my hands on some money. It should be a perfect book for the fair. (Ye, I got into the fair. Yeh.)

The woman, the cleaning lady, who gave the interview, suddenly decided she doesn't want it published. If there is something that disheartens me, is people telling me to disregard something after I've spent a fucking eon making it. Like what the bloody fuck is wrong with people?
It was what made me want to undo the interview, except that i would do it before it's written down, edited and ready for print.

I was going to meet two women tomorrow, as a coffee date, in another city, and one decided, in the evening beforehand, that she'd rather sleep in. I feel stupid for seeking company. In the end of the day, and, oh, it has been such a very long day, all I really want is to crawl into the General's palm and sleep, sleep. I don't like the real world. It's hard and cold. I like my own, where everything is in an unusually perfect balance and everything makes sense.