a morning with the immigration office. the woman who "did me a favour" by seeing me without an appointment (we're not mentioning out loud that it's their policy to see soldiers without) shouted at me for not understanding her when we were both using two completely different sets of terminology.
the woman in charge of the place sorted that one out, and someone else helped put things in perspective. i wasn't trying to be aggressive, but i'll be damned if i'm going to let some paper-slave take out her rough morning on me.
as was to be expected, when i asked her her name and carefully wrote it out, making a show of scribbling little notes, she got even more pissy.
i arrived on base in time for lunch, but i decided to work instead. i got through all the shit i had to do by the time everyone else was going home, and that's a day early, so i could spend the next couple of hours focusing on something that's important to me.
i arrived at the cafeneto around 9pm, in time for a fun conversation about pattern-matching and algorithms with spot and a friend of his. according to his friend, it's been recently discovered that every celebrity gets his / her own little neural cluster in your head. that's pretty amusing.
it's 11pm already, which is nuts. i'm going to bed.
no sugar in this clip
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