I shoud backdate... 3
I was writing on introversion at the beginning of last week, but then my activities during the weekend proved exactly the opposite (though I still got it, I think that my flexibility can get the better of me hehe). It started on Thursday with beers and dinner in the city center near the Grand Place. Friday night was followed abruptly by Saturday, without delay. After a heavy dinner of entrecote and béarnaise and scampi we went out to a local bar… and ended up going back to the hotel at 7 am. Needless to say I got tremendously drunk but not enough to make a complete fool of myself. The day after, I became notorious for my ability to drink ridiculous amounts of alcohol and hard liquor and then finish off a good night out with a glass of Port wine. I haven’t been out in a long time so I guess my aptitude accumulates along with more sober tendencies.
On Sunday after another night out in this adorable yet hellish looking bar called the Living Room, the motif of which was red and black velvet tapestries and couches, I went for a crash course of Brussels. When you’re prioritizing networking and alcoholism over culture, you tend to be like me - a tourist in a wonderful cosmopolitan who ends up waking up 30 minutes before a 3 hour tour of the city and snoring on a tour bus while the history of the European Union, King Leopold and waffles and cream drone through the earphones.
All in all my stay here was fantastic. It gave me hope that within the company I am in now, there are a lot of very clever people with marvelous personalities. Very much unlike the whiny, shallow lot who I have to put up with 5 days a week right now. In the organization I am in you have to be both apathetic and superbly patient to get things done, or you would have to apply the semi Nazi approach (it is now dawning on me why our former GM used to have vein popping speeches twice a month) and just bite their heads off before they even have the chance to open their mouths, oh and the things that come out of their traps are appalling.
It was a pleasure working with those co-trainees of mine on anything from class discussions to business simulations and I am sure that, should I get to work with them somewhere in the world in the future, it would be as enjoyable, and the parties would probably be just as crazy.
My experience this past two weeks just pumped up my motivation into a level I have not undergone in a long time. I suddenly woke up into a resolution that I plainly cannot let them suck me into the vortex of contentment and whining while staying put in one place. I have renewed vows to follow my plans with much resolve again. I have to move, leave or my own restlessness may smother me. I do not take pride in being like this. But I am like this and I know I will never be able to run away from my own judgment… even when it means getting criticized for being too much of myself.
***
There’s still this fuzzy, sweet slight delirium every time you say I love you or Come home. Each time, all of my other wants disappear and it seems like nothing else can disappoint me, not even myself.
When I hear you or feel you, I need neither more dreaming nor any of the humdrum details on my agenda. It is anyway the point of this whole exercise of living isn’t it? Why move anywhere else?
But then, ambition is a bitch. Its grasp is deceptive and yet so real.
On Sunday after another night out in this adorable yet hellish looking bar called the Living Room, the motif of which was red and black velvet tapestries and couches, I went for a crash course of Brussels. When you’re prioritizing networking and alcoholism over culture, you tend to be like me - a tourist in a wonderful cosmopolitan who ends up waking up 30 minutes before a 3 hour tour of the city and snoring on a tour bus while the history of the European Union, King Leopold and waffles and cream drone through the earphones.
All in all my stay here was fantastic. It gave me hope that within the company I am in now, there are a lot of very clever people with marvelous personalities. Very much unlike the whiny, shallow lot who I have to put up with 5 days a week right now. In the organization I am in you have to be both apathetic and superbly patient to get things done, or you would have to apply the semi Nazi approach (it is now dawning on me why our former GM used to have vein popping speeches twice a month) and just bite their heads off before they even have the chance to open their mouths, oh and the things that come out of their traps are appalling.
It was a pleasure working with those co-trainees of mine on anything from class discussions to business simulations and I am sure that, should I get to work with them somewhere in the world in the future, it would be as enjoyable, and the parties would probably be just as crazy.
My experience this past two weeks just pumped up my motivation into a level I have not undergone in a long time. I suddenly woke up into a resolution that I plainly cannot let them suck me into the vortex of contentment and whining while staying put in one place. I have renewed vows to follow my plans with much resolve again. I have to move, leave or my own restlessness may smother me. I do not take pride in being like this. But I am like this and I know I will never be able to run away from my own judgment… even when it means getting criticized for being too much of myself.
***
There’s still this fuzzy, sweet slight delirium every time you say I love you or Come home. Each time, all of my other wants disappear and it seems like nothing else can disappoint me, not even myself.
When I hear you or feel you, I need neither more dreaming nor any of the humdrum details on my agenda. It is anyway the point of this whole exercise of living isn’t it? Why move anywhere else?
But then, ambition is a bitch. Its grasp is deceptive and yet so real.