September

September's almost over, and on one hand it feels like it's been a breeze. Maybe it's because of the weather — not quite spring-like, cool, sunny, unchanging afternoons, and the same cold mornings that seem to be repeating themselves since May. Spring Day went by, and then it was my birthday and it also went by. I'm not saying this was a bad thing, only unusual. I tend to pay more (excessive?) attention to such dates and events, but I wasn't in that mood this year.

On Spring Day (last Friday) I stuck to the basics and just had mate with friends, lying on the grass in a park, like several hundreds of thousands of other Rosarinos, even though it was chilly and cloudy at times. On Sunday, I celebrated "the last day of my third decade" with an asado with friends, at home (they say it's bad luck to celebrate your birthday even one second before the actual day, so that's my excuse). Monday I took off work and spent the day in deep meditation, or, as some would have me confess, digesting Sunday's copious meals.

On the other hand, September was a long month. The outcome of the election was a factor — I wasn't personally involved in the campaign or anything but, as I told you, I knew the result could change my life. I'd become so fed up with my job as a state employee that I was thinking of getting a different one if there wasn't a change. The change is already noticeable; things are moving in the high places and also very close to me, though I can't give you precise details. There were also several issues on the personal side that got me thinking hard, others that have been falling into place for some time, and a couple of realizations that (excuse the cliché) hit me like a ton of bricks. All that, next to the symbolically important birthday — you can imagine.

I'm speaking to new people. I'm hearing the weirdest confessions from drunk friends. I'm reading a book with a complicated, metaphysical/metaphorical plot where the main characters are in their own ways trying to regain time — time they lost for reasons they don't understand — and I completely get them. My mother, despite my protests, gave me a big wooden trunk for my birthday — for my new apartment, whenever I finally get to move there. I got a website and I'm filling it up, at my own pace, with nonsense and practical advice, as if I could give advice to anyone, and not worrying about that kind of inadequacy. I'm writing this, for God's sake.

It'd be rather stupid of me to suppose that time is beginning to pass differently only because I'm a year older, or that I've gotten wiser specifically this month. It must be true in some sense, though. Maybe it is the spring!