Not enough time. Days are crumpled, rushed, turned inside out and at the same time each following day is the perfect copy of the preceding one.
I will soon start to recognize all bums between Capitol Hill and Colorado Secretary of State's Office. Next time I come to notarize another document I will be at risk of being hit in the heat with the Notary's stamp.
BEC section is not that challenging when you look at the content, but not that easy when you look at the amount of random information to memorize. It does give an impression of a less complicated FAR part.
Grandma N. died. Just between me typing in guilt, panic and anger to my cousin, trying to explain that I can't enter the country now, and me trying to find a way to get some sort of an expedited emergency visa as an exception - she did not make it. It can probably be called one of those cases when death is more of a mercy than being sustained in such sick and miserable condition for much longer, but I still can't cope with the thought. It was not fair she ended up in such a mental and physical state to begin with; and it was not right I couldn't have done more.
Thoughts come and go: I'll never be able to take Chinchillas to see her, I'll never buy her a bag of her favourite cottage cheese pastries and salted red fish ever again, I have never told her I have read Martin Eden - she was always too exhausted to talk about something other than day-to-day stuff and by the end could barely hear and understand me - and I'll never be able to discuss this book with her.
Granny, I do hope that in your next life, at the same age as now when you've ended up in bed for weeks, you'll be able to put on a beige hat with tiny forget-me-nots on the side, put on bright lipstick, get into your red Renault Clio with two of your best girlfriends and drive away from... Utrecht towards Barcelona, laughing and singing with the windows rolled down all the way.
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