Here I am from my iPad, drinking coffee and eating a chocoteja, surrounded by the Sunday newspaper. I guess I should say I’m sitting on the floor on my yoga mat because we don’t have a couch yet. New flat, no furniture.
In a few moments I’ll start reading the last part of Immortality by Milan Kundera, a book that truly surprised me. I was lucky to find it on my way at a second-hand book sale. Next to it, waiting, there’s a book I wanted to read since high school and that is finally mine: The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. I am an achiever, that means I feel bad if I haven’t done anything productive. It doesn’t matter if it’s Sunday. Right now I am torn between feeling guilty that I am writing and then reading and convincing myself I deserve it at least one day a week.
Last night I watched the last episode of Girlmore Girls, Fall, and I’ve got to admit I cried a little bit. Lorelai is the hardworking, strong and inspiring woman that should be the focus of the show, and Rory is a selfish and spoiled 32-year-old baby that cannot put her sh*t together. When I was younger I liked that she loved to read and was good at school because I could see myself in her but she is definitely thousands of kms away of what it’s a great character like Hermione Granger.
Yesterday I went to the presentation of the summer courses at the photography school I dream to study so bad. Here in December you get another salary apart from the one you normally receive, and here I am again torn between “investing on myself” like my mum called it and saving up because we have to buy a house and you have to save the more you can. I am always a mind with a body dragged by two extremes.
What do you think?