What's wrong? What have I done?
In the morning, in the middle, no, not even the middle, somewhere on my way to work my bike lost all the air off its tire. Great fun in the morning, after six hours of sleep and facing a long working day before the long weekend, that I will spent on a conference in Cologne. I decided the best is to walk parts of the way back and park the bike at Theresienwiese, so I wont have a too long way home in the evening, when I have to walk the bike home. My complete way to work took more than 45 minutes, where 15 is usual.
At my work all collegues hat a hang-over, because they went to a stundent's party till five in the morning. It was real funny to see, because usually, I am the one with that feeling. I mean I do not have that often, maybe three times, since I started working, but I have never seen them in this constitutions. At least they were all laughing at themselves, which made it funny. At six in the afternoon nobody of them was left, all went home early for the long weekend. All - except me, my presentation for the conference needed a last test.

Later, with my flat bike "walking" next to me, I decided I need money from the money machine. And? No money! Not for me. It simply did not come out. Nothing. Luckily there was an emergency number, which I called, and it seems, that everything is allright, no money booked off my account. But now, I am a bit afraid of the weekend. Is this the start into a huge catastrophe? Will my plane have starting problems tomorrow? When I got up at five to be at the munich airport, which is close to Nuremberg, punctually? Will my presentation not work on their computers in Cologne? Will nobody be listening to me? Will they kill me, because I talk about marketing strategies on a conference on feminism?

Please, readers! Keep your fingers crossed, that it will only be ONE day of strange things happening.
Thanks.

Jawohl.
And that is why: from now on in English. Because somebody might want to find me, and not everybody understands German. My new love should be able to read, what goes on in my head. Hoping that one day the bass-man of "Belle and Sebastian" reads my lines and wants to have contact with this nice-looking women from the 8th row on their concert in munich. Hey! You! No problem, I will give you my phonenumber, my address, my heart, if you leave you mail-address here!
Oh my dear...


(I am ignoring miss murray who arrogantly declares: "I do not really see a future for the two of you". She does not have a sense for romantics! How can she be so cold to my bleeding heart?)