a war of tiny proportions

i am still moving... i'm to the unpacking the boxes i filled with all the 'super-important' stuff i schlepped from dubai to stuttgart and trying my damnedest to put my bloody ikea furniture together. we are not friends, ikea furniture and i... not friends at all. actually, one could probably say that we are at some sort of war, in my bedroom... me with screwdriver-used-as-hammer (seriously, don't ask) and ikea furniture with its minions of tiny, dull nails.

war, i tell you. war.

thankfully, my new roommates pulled me away for caffeine and alcohol... so my mood was in a much better state before trying to go to sleep (i say 'trying' because everytime i was about to doze off into one of my freaky dreams - more on that in a post to come, by the way - an ambulance or police car or some such nonsense would come blasting past my house... shattering eardrums with that gut-wrenching siren that i think i can safely say that i hate).

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