:-(

Sick of international meetings. Need to watch personal manner more. Or do I? Been working well for me, so far. Have been told that I need to stop saying "I don't have long-term career ambitions here anyway". I wonder why. Ha. Pirates schmirates. Russian women really dig Indian men. Canadians really do pronounce the word "about" like "a-BOOT". Hee hee. Apparently I am the point person for the French language. One-eyed leading the blind. I have three months to brush up. Great. Can you spell I C-A-N-'T B-E B-O-T-H-E-R-E-D? Still haven't figured out if the seemingly gay chef was checking me out. Maybe he too sees the gay man trapped inside me. Or maybe he was just horrified at my skin. MY SKIN. I should stop boozing for so many reasons. Is it just that I'm getting old that the men I'm attracted tend to be married? Or is it just that the stable-family-life-seeking sort of guy tends to work in the government sector? PROBLEM: NEW JOB MEANS ZERO INTERACTION WITH THE PRIVATE SECTOR. It's just as well hey seeing how I have to re-acquaint myself with a language that I was not so hot at to begin with. Plus one more, if the new proposal goes through. Apparently there's no point to Japanese since it's not an official UN language. What a waste. Where was I? Oh yes. I AM BORED. I haven't eaten dinner in the past week simply because I AM BORED OF FOOD. Fortunately lunch has been catered so I could be on autopilot for at least one meal a day and not think about what I actually wanted. Not that it has made any difference to my waistline. If I wasn't so damn bored of it all I might feel a sense of panic brought on by the thought of getting OLD. OLD OLD OLD. I've been having weird dreams. Very different settings but the same plot: I end up having to live in the same house as an ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend; who is short, kinda-plump, not particularly attractive, but apparently very nice. And I'm totally OK with it, even a little perplexed at my lack of jealousy, totally cognisant of the stark reality that is I-was-dumped-because-I-wasn't-a-nice-enough-person, and weirdly supportive of the set up/ glad that so-and-so have found each other. They are such anti-climactic dreams, I wonder why I even remember them. Have I become politically-correct even in my subconscious? That is fucking scary. My right eyebrow itches and I've found the perfect red lipstick. It's from M.A.C.. London guy insinuated that he's not likely to want to stay there longer than two years and that he only accepted the position because he felt he had no choice. So maybe I get a go in 2012. But will I want it by then? I've been spending too much and maybe re-learning French will help me stop. I'm even bored of painting. All execution, no completion. Story of my life.


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