my stressing out was noticeable this morning, and i felt bad about that. i had one thing to do, and a whole of things that kept me from doing it. not least of which being the forms. after spending ages delving into the mysteries of canadian bureacracy with aota, we finally came to the conclusion that what quebec asked of me is totally wrong and that i'm exempt from all of that stuff. we finally narrowed it all down to a single submission. only to discover that the forms for that submission are pretty much identical to the ones driving me and pg crazy since the weekend.
and, get this, i'm going to have to go to new york sometime this week to hand in the forms because that's the closest non-canadian embassy. fantastic! [he says, sarcastically]
at least there's a cheap bus service, run by the hassidic community. that'll put my yeshiva experience to good use.
well, i guess everyone in the office knows my status now. there was a weird moment with moonlighter when i mentioned my only interaction with a palestinian prisoner* followed by a weirder one when aota informed me that he's a total anti-semite, or at least anti-israel. i hope she's totally wrong, or i hope he can see past it enough to give me a chance to open his eyes, even if only a little.
* i lit his cigarette, i guess you can blame me for cruelly assisting in giving him cancer.
another slowdown was caused by the junior developer, who's having a really rough time between home issues and studies. here i am, on the other side of the planet, playing big brother / psychologist. life is weird.
i received a call just as i was heading into the metro, the ups guys had decided to ignore our earlier communication and deliver my gloves to my apartment anyway. the caretaker picked them up, i was going to call him when i arrived but maybe it's better to do that in the morning.
i went by my aunt's place with the intention of having a cup of coffee and chatting, but i arrived so late that i was in time for dinner. the talking really helped, and the dinner was great, and everything was hunky-dory until my uncle got pissed off at me being a know-it-all again. can i help it if i know stuff? i can't tell if he's offended by what i'm saying, or just by the fact that i speak on so many different topics with authority. any conversion can now get to a point where he screams "bullshit!" over anything i say, and that's the end of the pleasant evening.
i couldn't stop thinking about the last thing we were talking about as i made my way home. could it be that that which brings out disgust - as opposed to curiosity - indicates recognition of that which we have suppressed within ourselves? or is it the other way around?
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