standing in the rain, had my face in the mirror

[fuchs]

The last few days, ten, maybe fourteen, before I had to hand in my thesis for my M.A. were spent in a frenzy of caffeine, sporadic sleep, dry eyes and too much information spinning around in my head.
Now and then I climbed the fire escape, new dosis of caffeine in hand, and gazed over my city. The boycat was constantly at my side, stealing bookmarks, hogging the desk, joining me on the fire escape.
It felt frantic, horrible, alive and bloody fantastic. Time flew by, uncredibly fast, and stretched on, incredibly long.
It was this phase in which thinking about anything but the next step of the plan is absolutely counter-productive. Which might explain why I did an unbelievably stupid thing in the end: I thought the deadline was on thursday... when actually I had to hand the damn thing in on wednesday. So I lacked a whole day of time, and I couldn't seem to make it, there was so much still to do which would cost copious amounts of time and nearly no brain activity.
And then there were two friends, fusselbiene and gaharr, coming over to congratulate me on making it, cake in hand... and it still wasn't done! So she started to work on some steps that were still on the to do list, while he found out where we could still find a copy shop and a post office that were open. I already had missed the deadline to hand it in at the university, now my last chance was a postmark with the correct date on it.
We raced to the copy shop, where other mistakes of mine came to rear there ugly heads.
(Note to self: Always convert to pdf before running to the copy shop.)
With no ten minutes to spare I jumped into a taxi to get to the post office, while my saviours stayed behind to grab the thesis paper when it would be done. We planned to unite paper and postmark later and throw it into a post box afterwards.
All of that walked on their money, I might add, I did not have any on hand and no time at all to get some.
The taxi driver was a very nice guy, who had missed his deadline years ago, which lead to him failing his studies and driving taxis since then. He broke a shitload of traffic rules and got a big tip, before I jumped out, looked around... and didn't see any post office around where post.de's map had said there was one.
10 o'clock in the evening passed on my wristwatch and I hadn't handed in my thesis.
That was it.
I had failed.
I walked the silent street to the city center, sobbing, of course. Not really devastated, more angry like you wouldn't believe. Had I really done that? Had I really sabotaged myself like this again?
I thought about my two saviours, waiting for me in what had become our favourite restaurant/pub in these stressful days, the Capitol in the unversity quarter. I thought about my parents, well, my father at any rate. I tried to come up with some explanation, but I really didn't know what on earth I should have done differently. I had worked as much as I could. I had slept as little as possible. I did start months ago. Well, there was the appartement issues, with the Evil House Owning Sisters of Doom trying to get rid of us, with the rain coming through the windowframes, and us showering without enough warm water. There were social contacts to consider, problems I had helped with, communication issues that had had to be fought through - but all this, with the sole exception of the upcoming Move, all this was what had made this my life, so, should I really have let everything slide, trampled on feelings and the like?
And I knew what my father would say anyway: Did you try your best? Yes? Well then. Pity that. I'm still proud of you. Now, try again.
And what about my doe-eyes, sunshine of my dark times? Oh, she would be furious... with herself, for not having been there to help me. She'd probably blame herself. But never me. And she'd try her best to comfort me.
And I thought of all my friends, trying to guess their upcoming reactions... and there were hugs all around, maybe even more cake.
So after just a few minutes, there wasn't much crying left to do, and a curious thing happened: For just a moment, I felt glad.
Free.
Free at last.
Now there was nothing left to do but write.
And tell stories.
And try my best. Maybe fail, maybe not, but stories would be told.
When I reached the High Street, which had been a shopping street since roman days, closed off but glittering and full of lights and slowly walking people in spite of the late hour, I suddenly thought about acquaintances further away, still contemplating how to out myself as an academic failure. I thought about a coworker from the German Stage Association... and then I remembered, that they stamped their own post. I should know, I had worked in their post office.
So I still had two chances left: The post office at the main train station, which may be open even at this time, and Barbara from the GSA, who may do me a favour and backstamp an envelope for me.
I was high on adrenaline, of course, my hands hadn't stopped shivering since the day before, for I'd never drugged myself this heavily with caffeine, and never for such a long period. I probably looked like a zombie, red eyes, puffed up face, mussed, unwashed hair and everything.
I walked by a chance for a good deed, ten steps by, walking farther away, twelve steps... then stopping and going back. Later I told my saviours what I did then, at High Street at night. I shouldn't have. It should have been a silent good deed. I shouldn't have told anyone. I won't tell you now.
But it felt incredibly good.
And when I walked away, hastily, to escape the unwanted, somehow unearned praise, a rough voice called after me:
God bless you! God BLESS you!
So I looked up at the cathedral, and the wind, always strongest in this city directly in front of it's daunting face, it ripped away my near silent banter:
Hear that? Bless me!
There was no post office at the main station. It had closed right before I had flown away to Japan.
So I caught another taxi, and yes I was broke, but dead tired, too, and they were waiting anxiously.

On the drive over to the Capitol I saw a car plate saying "SU-X".
I lifted a brow and grumbled interally: To be me, yeah? Sucks to be me? Well, thanks *loads*, Cologne.
The next car said: "SU-NK".
And I sneered: I really don't think so.
We drove through the ugliest part of the city and a big, red, squiggly writing glowed above us: "Liebe deine Stadt". Love you city.
So I huffed: Yeah! I am! Now bless me, damn you!

At capitol I smiled at my distressed saviours, telling them my last chance, and they had even more good contingency plans. We ate the best Carbonara of town and went home. I can't remember if they stayed over then or if that was another day, it all blurred into each other, but they were fleeing the parentals they were staying at until the Move.
No, I think they stayed, yes, I remember them sitting on my bed (which triggered... interesting dreams that night), and I guess they wanted to divert my thoughts, bless them.
The next day I called up Barbara, who was very pleased to be able to help me. I drove over to the GSA, got my poststamp from the day before, united stamp and thesis and went to the university, where I handed it in at the university post station like a regular postman.
I hadn't even used the 12 hours more to cheat... well, much. I had evicted the faulty Kanji list and taped in new ones.
Anyway, an hour later I had an email, saying that I had handed it in on time.

For three days I wasn't... really there. I bled and cramped and had caffeine withdrawal like woah.
And then we Moved. kaneda and I bonded like never before on this Move, on which there were minor catastrophies and miniature desasters everywhere. Somehow all the events of the House of Impossibilities at Eifelstrasse had apparently given us a certain serenity when faced with situations like that. The most regrettable thing was that I didn't quite catch on to how people where ruining their health all around me until it was nearly too late.
And the most traumatic incident was with Kan, me, and the boycats, on rainy Eifelstrasse, our arms making it impossible to carry everything to the station, both cats mewling pitifully - and the days before that both had been bundles of fear anyway - and both of us nearly crying with exhaustion.
But in the end we were home.
I think Mülheim, this flat and house warrant another entry just for them. Suffice to say that I'm in love with all three.
And we still settle in here. Frayed nerves still grow calmer with every passing day, with every passed smile.

oloriel and her awesome guy had been there between the two days of haulage, helping us pack and deconstructing Ikea furniture. She had given us an invitation to her wedding, kind of shyly, like she really believed Kan and me would maybe decline. So after the unpacking, reconstructing and nestling in, we planned to go there. Outfits had to be purchased and thought about. XD I think about... a week or so before the big day, she asked me to be her witness.
I'm still in utter awe about that. What an honour.
So I was at the registry office wedding as well as at the church, the day after. On the first day, with few people at their home, the groom showed off his house and the work he had done on it since my last visit, like every time, which is kind of a highlight for me, like every time. I love this house and their plans for it.
We walked the surrounding forests and oh, that landscapes like that really exist, right behind someones backdoor...
The next day there was the wedding at the church. And I watched like a predator for the pastor to say something bad. But he talked about love as a decision. About it taking courage and truthfullness. Well yes, he constantly said "one man and one woman", on which part I dare to disagree, and I'm not quite comfortable with the whole notion of every good thing on earth being given to us by a kind deity... but all in all, it was beautiful indeed.
And I have never seen a more perfect couple, I've never seen a cliché brought to live being this beautiful and... true. Just true.
Her brother said, grumpily, yeah you know I can't dance but I'd never forgive myself if I hadn't danced with my sister on her wedding day. And she looked like a dream with her slim waist and slightly disbelieving grin. And the groom's constantly reappearing blush, contrasting hilariously with his quite sexy salt -and-pepper hair. Him, running behind her, trying to rescue her dress's trail from certain doom, while she boldly trudged forward for even more picture taking...
So, so, so beautiful.
And I will never have that. I will never do that. And it's okay. It really is, and that should not have been quite that big an epiphany.
sebzer played taxi for us, and I think I freaked him out a bit as in the quiet hours of the night, while we were on the road back home, my migraine hit like a freight train, giving me painful hickups, nausea and of course, a major headache, already dulled by painpills. Sad thing indeed, all this wonderful, expensive food, and somewhere in there The Enemy had hidden. The last few streets I had to laugh about the absurdity of it all, and apparently I sounded very, very pathetic. XD He drove oh so carefully and I'm still thankful. :)

Inbetween these days I went to the university of course, trying to catch my examiner ladies. One of them is wonderful and told me that I could be very happy with my thesis grade, another one is... not so wonderful and polishes students off very briskly (which results in me panicking slightly, but her exam will be the first, thank god), and the third... left the country a few weeks ago.
Yes. She did. But it seems to work out fine anyhow.

Yesterday they told me my grade. 1.3, which is quite something. I'm unabashedly proud. [Edit: This is not my final grade but only the one from the thesis, which will be mashed up with the grades from the upcoming exams.]
So I will write a doctoral thesis next year.
I feel blessed all around.

Puuh. German version at a later date. *yawn*

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