I really want to see G. I would be crushed if the December meeting doesn't happen. I miss him, I miss him, I really miss him. I thought about him while walking back from the law faculty shortly before the library closed; thought about what would most likely happen if we didn't see each other in December; deduced that it would be a long while before we would have the chance to see other again; and concluded that the most likely and plausible outcome would be the end of our romance. At the precise moment I reached this conclusion, there was a pinch in my heart, there was reluctance, sadness.
He sent me a message on Skype at 3am my time on Thursday, which didn't show up on my locked screen for some reason. I happened to see it when I pulled down the notifications bar on my phone to look at messages. He said, 'Hope you are having sweet dreams.'
There isn't a point to anything that I'm writing. I'm just thinking about him because that's what I do the majority of the time. I told my mom that I may possibly come back to Europe earlier because of G, and she revealed her utter lack of faith in me and perhaps also my lack of objective, rational judgment when it comes to him when she said, 'Don't go back and wait for him ah! Make sure he will meet you first before going back! If you go back and he doesn't meet you, you'll cry so hard that your tears will be frozen!'
I'm not sure if this is better or worse than her reminding me to drive the car home that one time when I drove to work. It's nice to know how much faith your mother has in you, isn't it?
Lunch with Dominic was, in his words, rather nice. We went to this little eatery (I don't know what the proper word for it is) where he had an apparently typical German Friday meal of soup. I'm glad it was a homely lunch for him. I stabbed at my ciabatta thingy, which was not bad, but I can't get too excited over sandwiches. We had coffee and pastry at Fitzbillies afterwards. Time kind of sped by and it was 2.30 by the time we were done. I'd wanted to get to the library at 2, and he wanted to go to the maths department probably around the same time, but I didn't mind being quite late.
It was very cute that he walked me to the faculty, which was apparently quite a detour for him. In fact, I just looked up the distance on Google maps and the maths department is at least 17 minutes away by foot. That makes me feel so bad now.
In any case, I find him very amusing and entertaining. It was nice (I wouldn't even qualify it as 'rather nice'). If I had to be late to start working, it was probably the best reason that I could presently think of.
Fuck, I have no idea why I'm still awake and writing this at 1.17am. This isn't even a well-written entry.
I would bitch about my PhD but I don't want to. I am burning my weekend on it so there's plenty of time to bitch about it.
Gym was good. I don't know how to make the machine detect my heart rate so I've given up on doing its pre-programmed programmes. I burned over 300 calories in 30 minutes which is not bad, I think. In any case, I miss running, so I'll probably go running on Sunday morning, if I wake up early enough.
It's been an exhausting week. It's not going to get better anytime soon. I need to be mentally checked in for the barrage of shit that's gonna come by way over the weekend. This is where all the physical training comes in to bail me out, at least in theory: you commit to something and you see it through by sheer willpower, even if you really don't fucking feel like doing this shit right now. It's almost a matter of principle at this point. What I mean is this: you commit to something and you do it. It's the same reason why I hate being late: if I tell someone I'm going to meet him/her at a certain time, then I will meet that person at that place at that time. Being even a minute late makes me feel as if I am not living up to my words.
Anyway. I am going to read Revolutionary Road and go to bed. I will try my Hibermate tonight.