Today was one where I became accepting of reality, where I moved towards a measure of realism. There are those that can live without eating, but I am not they. Now I understand the tasks in hand - all loosely tied by the thread of documentation - which require different working hours and frames of reference, I am able to make my time my own once more.
For three days I have been bound by idiocy, that inability to see beyond the work at hand. Sitting for hours at the computer, head in hands, trying to cajole a workaround, trying binary tricks on operating systems and ill-functioning programs. But today I have broken the back of the thing - for now - and can now plan with a rough chronology. This will take this long, this will take longer.
So, I was able to cycle over to meet a friend, over three canals and to the red brick bridge, along Warschauer Strasse and into the north. Awaiting me was something of a business proposition, relayed to me while hot Turkish coffee boiled over and spilled onto the stove. In the back yard, a grey film covering everything, powdered cement blown from the construction work next door. I returned feeling a new perspective, feeling an element of self-destiny. There are dangers in this fulfilment, but they always come afterwards. I rode a different route home, hating to return the same way, tempting myself into a break of routine. Today has been hot and long and only cools now. The traffic in town was piled up, but breezing down side streets and hills I returned home to inscribe a false history into this day and those that preceded it. There are many things to be said, but too often I run out of space to say them. So, history is not repeated, but repealed.