ouch

and of course, eventually I got sick.
Usually I overwork, I get a temperature somewhere above 39° (102F), sleep (and sometimes puke) over 36 hours and get back to life.
I came home on Thursday from a long day in the west, knowing I was not okay. Luckily, when I tesed my temperature, I had muted the call I was on with my lovely American clients, because when I read 39.9° (almost 104F), a lot of swearing went on. Realizing that it was 9PM,I had left home at 7AM and I was still in a fucking conf call did not help.

The real issue is, despite aspirin, paracetamol, ibuprofen and antibiotics... things are not really improving. I spent two nights with 39.9 degrees (bad), and last night was better but the temperature is rising again.

The problem is not about calling in sick. The problem is: who the hell will deliver my 5 projects if I don't? my team? errrrr.... no. Let's face it, they're good guys but on two projects they are not even involved.
Tomorrow it's Monday and I'll be working from home, but to be honest I realize that unless I get better, I can barely function at 50% of my normal capacity (and I'm probably optimistic).
shit shit shit

How do I do it?

How do I do it?
Woke at 5.50 AM, washed up, squeezed my belly into white trousers an an oversize marine blue silk blouse, high heeled booties and ponytail.
I left home at 6.30, heading to the train station. At 7AM I was on the bullet train, laptop on, working. Started conference calls in French at 8.30, reached my destination in the North East at 10 and got into a meeting until 4.30PM. Back to the train station, hopped on the train again, got a conference call with the US (in English), one with another client (in French), one with my boss (in Italian) and another one with a French guy working in a PE in London (in French). In between I tried to brainstorm with the team. At 7.30 the calls were over and I started working.
Arrived at 8.30 in Milan, took a cab, called Mum, got home and started working again.
It's 10 PM, we have no smoke at home, I'm debating whether to wake up at 5 or 6 to get to work tomorrow (luckily from the office). I already know that my last call for tomorrow is scheduled at 7PM (thank-you, US guys for not understanding it's Friday night).
I've been eating sandwiches on the go and milk and cookies all week.
No wonder I'm such a mess.

work hard, get fucked harder

This was an accident, not the kind where sirens sounds: even though I'd noticed I'm suddenly crumbling.
Tell me how you've never felt delicate or innocent?

Do you still have doubts that us having faith make any sense?

Staring at my photograph, everything now in the past, I never felt so lonely, I wish that you could show me love

I am fucking with my own life and not even in a glamorous way.

And the worst part is I fear they may be fucking with me as well - and I may not achieve what I'm working so hard for, and fail, fail, fail.

Get fat e get fucked - that sounds like real good Lucy.

train, eat and work

Came in from a sunny Saturday, at work.
I thought I saw something in the mirror.

I turn on on my laptop, work, listen to music
Still, I can't escape the ghost of me.

What is happening to it all? Crazy, someone say
Where is the Lucy that I recognize? Gone away

But I won't cry for yesterday, there's an ordinary world, somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world, I will learn to survive.


Well now pride's gone out the window, past the rooftop, gone away...


(thought remotely inspired and adapted to Duran Duran's "Ordinary world", although I suspect if anyone's still reading, they'll be too young to know it)

shame on me

Early this week I reached a new highest weight ever.
and just for the shame of it: 143.3lbs, or 65kg. BMI: 22.8

the shame
the shame
the shame