It has been a while. A headlong while. I am in the dip corp three months. A lot has happened. Last night I went for dinner with a chunk of my past. I am too tired to say anymore. Life has sped along at such a pace. It really has. I am going to try my best to slow things down a bit.

Well the final stage has been crossed as it were and now I wait for the results. And wonder how it has come to this, to a position being all that I have faith in. I have little interest in human gratification - too irrelevant and temporary, impure highs.

Burning the almost midnight oil. Funny but I never predicted this development - up preparing pre-interview forms for the dip corps before rising at 6 to complete said task. Then I drive afore mentioned car to a garage to be at the other job for 8.15 to get trades of huge sums made before going to a corporate training course at 9.30 on CDOs (What I currently associate with by all accounts; I work in structured finance).

I would say I need a holiday but this is actually a good period and I have no wish to fly from it just yet. Except for the mindless vandalism on my poor old car. If you, the perpetrators, are reading this (one never knows), please stop. It is most over dramatic of you.

The other new developments are hip hop dance classes and linked up professional websites courtesy of Isabelle, both of which provide amusement for a later date. I am too tired now.

Incidentally if you, at least, are reading this can you mail me some photos of us, as I, strangely, do not have any.

And because I miss him like all that is golden,a gratuitous picture of Rou instead.

Again the "to write, perchance to be read" dilemma. Mostly I have been reading if one must know. Lots of Henry James. And now the complete works of Saki. Not material conducive to internet on the whole.
I went to Croatia for a little trip. Istria - Bagnole to be exact. Took a boat out for a day and sunbathed in the nude on a rock in the Adriatic. Lovely and burned.
I took my mother to Nice and Monaco where I found the perfect brown leather gloves. It is a summer of winters so I may be airing them sooner than anticipated in the heat of the South of France.
And I underwent the social experiment that is round two of the diplomatic corps competition. On verra.

Save the odd foray into inexplicable hysterics, all has been well.

Oh, almost forgot - the repression is worryingly effective - some nasty specimens of Dublin bore a great big hole into the side of my car just to retrieve the grand sum of twenty Euro, which in Dublin is worth a bad meal and a drink, maybe a bus home.

Getting exponentially tired of Dublin.

Drove to Brittas Bay today into the sun. Just by the sea. That is all sometimes that is needed to be enough. I guess it has got so as I am prepared in some almost picturesque way at last. That there are human beings essentially without any sense of honour is no longer a surprise, and one's own lack thereof hardly stings at all. These and passing twinges of recent scenes intertwined with older ones and the signs and roadworks go by and there are trees standing inside the hills and drive on to the Band. The sun and the road and the hills and the hair of someone in breeze. The heat is here again.

Whiskey and Air. Weird thing right, I burned my arm in a cafe yesterday getting coffee. I have a bandage thing on my forearm and I am drinking with Jess. It is warm and bloody indolent outside.
I have some sort of problem that needs the talk.

It was not the luas trip, I swear, but I handed in my notice last Monday. I am liberated entirely from banking in three weeks and counting. This makes me happy. And worryingly unconcerned.
I went to Kerry for the weekend. It was so sunny and soft there. I also stopped smoking three weeks ago. And the chap talking about contacting lost fathers. It is like having a terminal illness without the symptoms.