Spending my nights sitting and staring … chained to the desk trying to decipher what the man wrote on the 10th of February 1656. Four folia, obviously paper; somehow bound together, I could swear there are some kind of scotch-tape; stained a little, what do you expect after 350 years? The right side later cut, that’s what crumbles first. I received a xerocopy, well they don’t make a fuss there on the countryside – We have a copy machine to use it, Joe! -, the small book is in remarkably good shape. Really hope that it is no tape (these rotten softeners even destroy the surface of coins!) and that they store it in an acceptable way.
The village gave itself a kind of order regarding some communal tasks. Transcription and further archive work. I am a lazy sod, should have started with this at least one week earlier. Procrastination sounds crispy somehow, nice word. For my excuses, the nasty cough returned, saw my doctor yesterday. He prescribed me some tetracyclical (a cycle with four corners?) anitbioticum
in combination with aetherical oils – the pill looks like a green suppository, must be taken with a glas of cold (!) water; ten minutes after I swallow one I feel the taste of Latschenkiefer
(mountain pine?) in my mouth, like a good swig of Franzbranntwein
, its what you rub on horses.
Slowly but steadily I start working again. I enjoy it. A day can be more than four hours of light and 12 hours of darkness – there are *gasp!* real people! Even … humans!
An ex-coworker wrote me an e-mail asking by the way whether I’d miss the job. I can answer this with an hearty “NO”! I still have trouble with the rhythm of wake and sleep, and sometimes I would very much like to have a cigarette. But it will bounce back, and fade.
I have to scrape myself together and go on doing what I can, what I learned, because I like it: Reading, writing, researching. There is no way back into this tredmill.