Crystal palace

 Citylife is my biggest dream in terms of buying a flat in the city. It's this new area they have completly rebuilt 6 years ago that was turned into a big (beautiful) park, 3 skyscrapers and a mall, and 2 enclosed residential complexes that are supposed to be the best you can have in this city.

When we step through the gates, it's perfect. The real estate agent is elegant, there are families quietly chatting in the common garden areas, everything is quiet and beautiful in a lovely autumn evening.

The flat looks like a fucking closet.

Granted, it's beautiful, but it is advertised as a 136 square meters (1,464 sq feet) and the insternal space is actually 84sqm (904sqf). There is a big balcony, true, but what the fuck, my husband is right, we can't possibly spend over one fucking million Euros for a fucking closet.

And we can't afford to spend more. We can't even afford that much. I do make a lot of money now, but the sad truth is I've been working for 16 years and I've only been making some real money over the past 3, and anyways half of it goes into taxes. Anything over 700k and we'll need to make a loan anyways.

This used to be a place to remind myself to stay skinny and it's ended with a fat, almost 40 woman failing to get pregnant and bitterly complaining about house and work. How fucking exciting.

*mirror, mirror,

where's the crystal palace?

but I only can see myself*

(Winter, Tori Amos)

just want to go out

The older you get, the more you value walking. At almost 38, I already considered that the best part of my weekdays was when I managed to walk home from work instead of taking the tube. I live 3.5km from work (a bit over 2 miles) and whenever it wasn't too late and it wasn't pouring rain, I used to walk home, sometimes making calls to clients or my mother, sometimes just listening to audible and watching shops windows.

I seems like I'm talking about a long time ago, but we've been working from home since February 22, and in a total lockdown since March 7. Yesterday I decided to go for a walk in the woods (my parents' place is really next to wild woods by the lake) and in order to do that I had to wait over one hour: as soon as I saw a police car patrolling, I waited for it to be gone and crossed the road to get to the footpath in the woods.

That because if they stop me outside home, I can get arrested.

I so miss walking.

My father in law died on Wednesday morning. He had 4 sons and a daughter, all loving him and living close to him, and he had to die alone because we are not allowed to leave home (let alone visit sick relatives in the hospital). He was buried this morning with no funeral (not allowed) and no family (again, not allowed). On of my brother in laws is a priest, so he's celebrating a private mass via skype for the family tonight.

This gives you an idea of the situation I guess.

A charge to keep I have,
a body to glorify
a never dying hunger to abate
and fit it for the sky