I am a fighter

6am in the morning. Light enters the room. I open my eyes. The pain wakes up too. The pain that broke me already into pieces. The brain wakes up. It starts the thinking. Choices to make. In a second either I let the pain eating me up, either I push myself out of bed.

Choice made: in one second I get out of bed. Boil water and make a coffee. Choose the best summer dress. I am still tanned. Remember Barneys Stinson in “How I met your mother”. His motto:  “Always look awesome”. The guy always wears suits and it works.

The day starts well. A long mail from a dear friend from Berlin. Some nice words from my little cousin. They are checking on me as the last post yesterday on Facebook was filled with despair and sadness. People care about me.

Walk to the tram listening to “The Road to hell” by Bruce Springsteen. Get in the tram. Run into an ex-lover who happens to live in the same neighborhood. He says “Good morning you” with a huge hug and a big smile.  Small talk a few minutes to him. Continue to listen to the same song. Good rhythm so as my steps to the office.

Messages of a friend from Tokyo and another dear one on vacations in Koh Samui right now. People really care about me.

Feel like a fighter.

Say hello on the blog.

Start the redaction of a report.

Prepare a presentation for a conference in three weeks.

During the whole time, the pain tries to attack me and to win some place. No, not now. Maybe during the night, but during the day, nasty pain, you can’t be there.

Because I am a fighter during the day.

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