nightshift

I am sitting at my heating desk, it is almost midnight and I'm typing the hell out of my notebook... it's a nightshift again! I almost forgot how this is. it's dark outside, you can be sure that nobody will call you, your head actually is producing something useful, you are tired but you feel that you have to write this last thing down, and another, and another. feels good.

In 10 minutes december starts. and fuck, my flute is in Austria. In 5 minutes Andrea-day is officially over AND there's going to be a anti-botellón-law here in Sevilla which forbids to drink in the streets. hm. what are we going to do? are we going to start pre-glowing sessions or "Vorspiel"-meetings (that's how they call it in..hm..Sweden, Norway.. can't remember) here in the south? who knows...