Bech is back

This blog is indeed back, this time with the Lady returned and comfortably ensconced in the flat. This, of course, being a rather pretentious thing to say, I apologize.

I feel like an absolute loser at the moment, and face the prospect of 2 1/2 years of single-minded hard work getting flushed down the drain, because of a collaborator's utter, callous irresponsibility. So the analogy is probably apt. I should be mad, but I just feel....blank. I have no idea whether this too, will pass (the Lady says it will). Right now, all I can think of is winding up and going back to a village in India and just........treating patients. At least you make them feel good and they make you feel good in return. Maybe I'm not destined to be an academic. Maybe. Maybe...Maybe. Maybe. Shit. I am soooo fucked. Sorry.

At least she's back. Anyway, I'll know by tomorrow whether I'll be believed or crucified. That should be a bit of a steep learning curve.

Anyway, one of the first things she said on walking in was that the living room stinks. I’d noticed; in fact I’d stopped sitting in the armchair by the window because of the vaguely cheesy smell. However, a multinational operation involving sober men from 3 different continents had failed to find the source of the stink. We’d located it’s origins to the corner with the music, but then, music doesn’t stink (exceptions notwithstanding). I’d scrubbed and vacuumed the room from top to bottom, but the stink wouldn’t go away. Turned out it was the water in the jug with the Feng Shui bamboo shoot. I’d forgotten to change it. It was right on the table next to the music.

She then looked out of the window and said, “Look at the quadrangle, all the flowers are out! It’s so pretty!” I hadn’t noticed, really.

Funny thing is, sleep’s not been too great all these weeks. So she came, had breakfast and collapsed into a jet-lagged stupor. I did the same, though this was probably a lady-lagged one. Grown men can be like children sometimes.

The Spring’s finally coming in through the curtains. I should cook something before she gets up.