My right hand hurts. It has been hurting for four weeks now, or so. It’s really annoying. I noticed it the first time in Argentina, when one of the people there with a very firm handshake shook my hand, and it hurt beyond the usual feeling that you get from a very firm handshake. I don’t think it has to do with the bones, it’s something in the nerves in my hand, I think. Sometimes it kind of pulls up into my whole arm, and makes it feel numb. It’s annoying me, it upsets me.
Last week was really exhausting for me. I spent it in Munich at our headquarters. Going there is always a two-sided sword. On the one hand, it’s really good to see everyone and get back into the spirit of everyone. On the other, it’s really nerve-wrecking to be meeting all the time, and to never have a quiet moment. The meetings we had were really productive, and challenging, and helpful. But they also create new items on to-do lists, and mean so much work … And sometimes I’m just overwhelmed by it all.
Also, I see Indira at the office, and I am feeling rather lonely these days, so that’s not very helpful either. My attempts at some long-distance flirting with Valerie aren’t going nowhere, so the more specific hopes I’d been kind of entertaining in the romantic department don’t really exist anymore … Good news this week was that I had some nice exchanges by email. I’d been writing to some people and received very kind emails back, and I am happy that I am rekindling some friendships.
This past weekend was also in the spirit of rekindling friendships. I went to Frankfurt from Munich on Friday, hung out with Steve and Ursula, and on Saturday I went to see my old University friend James, and his family. James is a banker and has a very different walk of life from my own. We hadn’t seen each other for a long time, and now – with a joint effort – we managed to find this weekend, and set it aside for a visit. It was good to see him. We went out, just the two of us, on Saturday night, walked around the city, talked about work, and about where we’re headed. It was good.
But now I am happy to be back in Berlin. But I don’t feel so good. I don’t know what it is – does it have to do with my aching hand? Is it something else? I am not quite myself. And that bothers me.