Tag Archives: Bruxelles

The thought process is what counts…

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Univers, taken by Loutseu (stand by).

The image above comes from the Flickr photostream of a Frenchman, called Loutseu whose work I stumbled across earlier today. His photos are fantastic: a combination of macro, HDR, black and white, long-exposure and just well framed interesting shots. Of course I also appreciate the fact that there’s always a bit of french thrown in there. It makes learning easier!

I was in Leeds from last Friday. I took morning flight from Bruxelles that got me into Leeds for about 10:30. I had been planning to see my friend Helen that morning, as I was staying at her house, but she’d just started a new job the morning in question so that idea wasn’t possible. I killed some time by heading into the University and sorting out admin that I needed to do for my own piece of mind. Not completely necessary but good to do. That’s kind of how the whole trip turned out: not necessary but good to do.

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My nervous disposition

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When I was in secondary school I didn’t really enjoy myself very much. A lot of the time I was disinterested in what I was studying and felt pushed to work. I was pushed to work; I had to be. I had no motivation. I was constantly nervous and on edge because I knew, or at least felt, that I was not doing as well as the other boys. Very infrequently did I have confidence or pride in my work.

When I knew this, when I felt I was doing something wrong or not doing it right I would get a ill feeling in the pit of my stomach. This wasn’t a feeling of illness in the medical sense, but a general unease. I was on edge. I get this feeling still when watching suspense-filled movies. I’ve tried to watch the film Match Point twice without success. I can’t stand it.

It’s the feeling you get the morning before a major exam or test. You don’t trust yourself to eat because you’re too afraid.

I got this this evening. My day up until a couple of hours ago has been pretty great. I’ve done lots of reading, went and had coffee with friends and confirmed the result of my French language exam. I passed. I can’t tell you how happy that made me. It means, if nothing else I will have passed at least one exam this term. My politics classes written in French are perhaps another matter.

But my ill feeling came when I got a quick email from my landlord. He’s a pretty nice guy. We’ve had a little bit of minor friction but I have nothing to complain about really. What absolutely terrified me is that asked me:

Maybe I am wrong, but I think I did’t get the rent of January.

Oh. My. God.

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