Oh là là

I could really get used to this not working thing. Not that I don't still get up early, but I don't have to go anywhere or be anywhere or do anything if I don't want to. Kurz gefasst: I can be as egotistical as I want. And because I am now the proud inhabitant of a little 1-room apartment, I can do as I please. I am trying not to let my little home look like a tornado hit it, but, well, I'm missing the extreme orderliness that inspires me to sweep or vacuum incessantly. Now that I have unpacked my suitcases, though, I have a better than average chance of actually finding stuff I was pretty sure I brought with but haven't been able to find in ages. And by ages, I mean, since I left.

This all comes under the heading of "this is the life". I am now capable of making coffee in the mornings, keeping my daily caffine dose in check is becoming more difficult but nevertheless enjoyable. My life is a multiple choice: a) go running, b) hiking, c) biking, or d) several of the above. Interspersed with coffee and ice cream appointments, dinners, drinks, and random other events. Last week was a north african evening which turned into a north african disco party in the university bar, which is a cafeteria by day and a bar by night. We heard stories of one guy's motorcycle journey across Morocco, another's backpacking adventure, and watched a belly-dancing troupe before throwing off our jackets and trying it ourselves, with little success, no embarrassment and lots of enthusiasm.

I heard the president of the European Parliament, Herr Pöttering, speak. And about three rows up and one to the right was a gentleman who insisted on contradicting everything the speaker said. "We should look beyond Europe," he said ("No, we shouldn't!"), "we need to follow through on the principles for which we stand" ("No, not our business"). His comments weren't even entirely intelligible, just a Harz-IV-naysayer who proclaimed his unalieable right to interrupt, as if it were on par with life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Yesterday was one of those days where the time goes all too quickly, and you look down and it's 2 AM. And you have to bike home with groceries. Without a light. Again. I met my Canadian friend for coffee and quatsch, which turned into more coffee, a trip to the grocery store, another trip to a different grocery store, Baklava, Haloumi-Yufka und Schwarzentee, anderthalb Stunden auf Deutsch plaudern, a trip to the Biergarten, litres of beer en francais, a glass of wine, several work colleagues and glasses of punch. My buddy sees me out and I head for my bike, when he realizes he has locked himself out. So he buzzes incessantly until the one present roommate opens up for him, because sleeping on the stoop would suck.