A new month, supposedly a new beginning, but this really is all starting to feel like the end.
I'm seriously starting to not care about my work (which will eventually all blow up in my face, I suspect) and it probably won't be long till I make a gaffe of some kind, like forgetting a translation to be done, or not turning up for an exam or something.
But right now I don't care. I'm floating, drifting, drowning.
My life isn't exactly flashing before my eyes, but my dreams are, my fantasies are.
And I'm yearning for some time away, alone with my girls, time to enjoy being with them. But I suspect it won't be possible this year as everything is too expensive.
I watch "Mad Men" and feel like bitch-slapping Betty Draper - she throws away so much, she hurts those children so much, and all for what? A dull, bourgeois life... Yeah, OK, maybe that's what she wanted, but the passion isn't the same. And boy, would I love some passion right now...
But I remain adrift, distraught at the idea that this is probably as close as I'll get all summer to being at the sea...