Waiting...

Jeez, I'm boring myself with the struggle whether to write or not. The idea wobbles through my head like a total Indian [please read with cerebrals, accompanied by a, well, head wobble] and it's annoying as a vine fly. On ecstasy. And Red Bull.

I hate not having time. The time to check some blogs that I like to check out or to write some of my own crap; to simply stare at the blank space where the post is supposed to appear. But I hate something even more ― not actually doing anything that makes me not have time. It's just small things which, by the mighty-hated Murphy law, take at least five hours. Going to the bank or trying to catch a certain professor at the uni; looking for new winter shoes ('cause it's been ages and my sneakers are water prone) or taking a power nap during the afternoon.

Are the days too short? Well, for fuck's sake, yes! It's complete dark by four. And it's -9. Minus. Nine. Mediterranean my ass! Five layers don't seem to cover it. I might as well move to Gdansk, if you know what I mean.

And what have I been doing? The same old shit. Staring at the same papers, translating the same words and trying to figure out the same old shit. I should try translating shit. Krap.

I wrote the final yesterday, again. I blanked out ― again ― and noobed up on the easiest question. One would think that someone already dealing with Indo-Europeistics for months would know which is the most widely-spread and famous theory about Indo-Europeans. Not me. My mind was a green meadow. Wide and sunny, with butterflies and daisies and all.

I was supposed to translate the verb to milk into Sanskrit. Think that's weird? No. What's weird is that I knew what it was in Greek, Latin, Old Slavic and Lithuanian. But no, I get Sanskrit. Dhanyavād! Feels like talking to myself really. I'm not sure anyone understands me...

Anyway, waiting for results. Eleven hours and counting. Not to mention that I have both exam on the same day. Again. Merry... Wednesday!