Going to bed

I am going to bed. Just that. I had a bizarre evening with some friends from school, then I had an idea for a short story that I will submit to a literary contest**, I called torjman and we had dinner and played pool (I won)

**Luci, I am gonna get the 30,000 euros and I'll leave for Toscana, you'll see.

Once in Toscana, I'll live the life I've always wanted to live for a period of my life. I'll wake up in the morning with nothing to do. Absolutely nothing. I'll smell the air. I'll pick up some fresh fruits from my garden, and treat myself for an endless breakfast in bed, the windows wide open, just like in the hotel in Rome... remember, love? Of course you do. Rome was our city for three days, and you got mad when I split the yogourt on your naked body, and we never made it to the sixtine chapel cause we were too lazy and too satisfied with the art of our wonderful sex.

Then I'll walk, or drive to the nearest village to buy some food. I'll cook pasta, just like Laura used to cook pasta in London: really slow, you know, the ragout needs its time, and the fresh basil demands patience and contemplation.

And the rest, well, the rest I leave it to your own imagination. I told you, I am going to bed.