I wish my roomate stayed in Jerusalem on the weekends. I think I need human contact in the morning before I can do anything productive. Otherwise I just end up drinking coffee, surfing the net and talking to myself, while my work sits untouched and my apartment sinks into messy oblivion. I can't even do the dishes without a bit of conversation. How did this happen to me? Ah well.
Speaking of human contact, I've called Jef every day this week. We are supposed to be taking some time off so I can get my act together, and he's behaving very nicely with enviable self control. I, on the other hand, am apparently addicted. I cannot stop! We must speak! When I wake up in the morning, and again when I go to bed at night. Sometimes I can resist the urge, but last night, after two araks (a dangerously deceptive drink) there was simply nothing I could do. The phone was in my hand...I was dialing...and suddenly, there he was! Just like magic!
I really like this one. I might keep him.