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Friday, October 15, 2004


I had imagined that when I woke up this morning I had awoken somewhere in some tropically warmed, lit by the bright sun and fantastically close to the ocean bungalow. It turns out I was in my bed. My bed is in Vienna. Now, don't get me wrong. I love this city. I love living here. Most of the time, I actually love the initial reason that I moved across the pond - work. And presently work is going well. Slow, but steady. And it's not as if I am hating being here, I'm content with it at the moment. I just fancied the thought of being in an overwater bungalow in, say... Bora Bora. And my day started off with a small, albeit indescribably unrealistic, disappointment. And it took me a few seconds, or rather realistically a few minutes, to get over it.

Padding around in a dark and dim flat, I looked outside and it was grey. The grey that is nearly the same shade as the fog from San Francisco. The fog that rolls in overnight and hangs around, thinning with the warming of the morning, burning off completely in the light of pre-lunch hours.

Officially, I have a lot of work to get done. For the life of me, I can't stop staring out the window. The distant hills are veiled in a thin fog, and I can't stop thinking about sitting at a cafe with a book. But I have a deadline niggling at the back of my head. I have the visual distraction of a co-worker bouncing around in their seat. It's cute. I swear it. It's good to know that somewhere in someone's world, there's an awesome concert being conducted. I have the outline of documentation that is yet to be written battling it out in my head for proper organization. And I keep looking across the southwest districts, as the view affords me from my desk chair. For want of a free day in the big, scary city.

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