Okay, it’s Daylight Savings Sunday, stores are closed, guys are busy, I have the whole day to apply for these three jobs. Right. First job, let’s re-jig the letter from the last application, hm, don’t know how to say that in German. I should do more to improve my German, hey you know what would help? Knitting podcasts. In German! A subject that interests me and will hold my attention, and the chance to hear German spoken with normal usage and pacing. Ooo, here’s one about time management (vis à vis fibery-projects, very relevant for me). Oh you know what, my Dutch is slipping, are there any Dutch knitting podcasts? Hm, doesn’t look like it,but here’s one on books, could be interesting.
Oy, got sidetracked. Continue reading
Yeah, I don’t know about this age. I’m not really feeling it right now. Not looking it either, since I cut all my hair off and now I look like an 8-year-old with bedhead. And eyebags.
My actual birthday was Monday, and started inauspiciously when I woke at 3 a.m. and couldn’t get back to sleep. Which worked out in a way, because I did need to get up at 5 and I had sort of forgotten to set my alarm. However, it would also have worked out if I’d woken at 4:55, so it’s hard to be grateful.
Why 5? Why, to drop Ignatz off at 6:15 for a school trip to Vienna. Oh, so this is why people send their kids to private school! I begin to see a point… Other groups went to Berlin, Barcelona and Venice. Pretty cool, huh?
So then the Sniglet had to get to (the same) school at the usual time, 7:45, and then I had to get to my school from there. I very carefully didn’t tell my class that it was my birthday, so I wouldn’t have to provide cake. Cake is not really in my skillset. Continue reading
These photos never capture the real majesty of the view. You’ll just have to come see it for yourself.
That’s a literal translation of “shit gets real,” not that an actual German would ever say that, probably. But yeah. There’s been some conflict in the class, and today saw a confrontation between the teacher and another student, and, um. (Backstory: parental conflict left me with some fairly deep psychological scars, so generally when I see people in conflict I get very distressed, though I’m getting better at hiding it.) So basically, a minor thing happened and I’m reacting badly to it for reasons which I know are not very good but I can’t find the off-switch. Continue reading