I’m not going to let this get to me. Or at least that’s the plan. I’ve got an hour between students at Peritus and need to find a way of occupying it. I decided it was time for a change of scenery, so instead of going to Globalisation Café (a.k.a. w biegu café on ul. Marszalkowska) I headed for Traffic Club on ul. Zgoda. I don’t know why I’ve never thought of going for coffee and cigarettes (as well as internet access) at Traffic. They even have English newspapers.

Giant steel gates blocked the front door of the shop. I deciphered a sign with ‘11’ on it as ‘Store closed til 11, staff training,’ or something to that effect. Sod it, I thought and headed for my usual haunt. A lady stood waiting at the counter was completely indifferent to my call of ‘przypreszam’ (excuse me) and stood impassively as I bundled between her and a chap sat on a stool opposite (who did hear my attempts at social manners). Turning to go upstairs to the seating area, I was met by something I assume means, ‘Upstairs is closed at the minute.’ In need of coffee and a place to write (now with a new subject to tackle) I find myself in a coffeeheaven. However, I don’t know how to connect to the network here. By the time this is finally posted, I shall be back at my flat in Solec. [Yes, I'm now sat at home, playing poker as I post this.]

The irony is that this series of misfortunate events was going to be the topic for today’s entry. It’s just that I’ve had a fresh set to write about. My days are filled with things not going as planned or the way I’ve expected. For example, I can predict the exact time of buses from my stop at Metro Politechnika. They depart at the exact moment it takes me to get to the crossing on the other side of the road. It’s like the trains are scheduled precisely; so that as I ascend the escalator to the street I can have a full view of my bus approaching the stop, stopping for passengers, leaving the bus stop and then stopping at the traffic lights that I cross to get to the stop that it has momentarily departed from.

It’s these kinds of things that happen like clockwork that I find myself consumed by. My task is not to be deterred by this constant barrage of bad luck. (It’s like playing poker for an hour and getting dealt 7-2 off every hand. Ironically, this bad luck doesn’t seem to affect my poker.) I have to remind myself every day that: Isn’t it a little odd that despite my bad luck, I’m receiving it in an Eastern European city? The same city that has: found me enjoyable and well paid work, a cool flat (that I pay considerably low rent for) and oh yes, the most insane, intelligent, funny and beautiful girl in the world? Yes, it is a little odd.

I have to remind myself of the amazing things that I have in this town. Because I’m the kind of person that lets missed buses, poor internet connections and social interactions get on his nerves. Essentially, I need to let shit go and focus on the good shit. Because my shit is the best.

Fuck knows what I may have written if McCain won.

Ok, so now I'm back in the flat I can write a few more words without anyone staring at me. (People seem to stare at me, don't they know it's rude?) I've had a couple of classes and some lunch and I'm feeling at least 48% better than I did when I wrote the first bit at around 10 o'clock this morning. In fact, I'm in such a good mood I'm going to stick a picture up (it's been a while).




How can one be unhappy when high street banks up and down the high street have giant images of John Cleese? A reliable source has told me that he appears on television commercials speaking in Polish. Now that's a good work ethic. I hope it inspires me to learn Polish a bit quicker. You never know when you might need to say, 'To nie jest martwy, to śpi.' = 'It's not dead, it's sleeping.'

And while I'm online I can check the results of today's Mystery Chocolate Game. The Mystery Chocolate Game is something I've devised to quell both boredom and hunger. In the supermarkets here, they have a massive range of different chocolate bars (quite cheap ones too). However, due to lack of image/English language labeling or flavour, I don't know what I'm buying. Today I had one that on the label looked like caramel, but didn't taste like caramel. Or anything else to that matter. So before I check the trusty Poltran website, I'm going to say Zabajone is... pineapple.

I don't know why, as I know pineapple is ananas, but it's the closest taste I can think of.

Shit, Poltran can't help me. Maybe this will: Wikipedia.

I'd never have guessed that.