Ouch. With a capital O.

Yesterday at tennis I did a very good serve (one of many, I'm proud to report) but finished it the wrong way, i.e. with the racquet coming down not left of my body but going towards the right. Unfortunately the path wasn't entirely clear because my right shin was in the way. If pain can be called magnificent, this one was. Ber-loody hell, that hurts. The bruise is a thing of beauty, and if anybody comes even close to my right shin I'm going to shoot them first and ask questions later.

Last night's outing with Goran the Gorgeous Landlord and his wife Snezana was wonderful. We had a great time in a wine bar in the Old Bazaar, drinking red wine, eating OMSsobloodygood! Macedonian cheese and sausages and chatting. For about one hour we talked Macedonian, and I have to say it again: I'm so happy to be able to do this. Dalibor, my Macedonian teacher, is my hero. Funny thing is, I'm his hero too: yesterday he told me that he met some guy from the Foreign Ministry, who said, Ah, so you're the one who's teaching the Austrian deputy head, her Macedonian is unbelievably good. *iz proud*

I'm also really glad to have finished a rather lengthy political report already yesterday, because today I'm so horribly tired that I couldn't do it. Unsurprisingly, because I was home shortly before 1 a.m. and got up at 6.15 (luxury!). Even more luxury: impossible to get a taxi today at 8.45 (earlier, no problem, but 8.45 is rush hour and it was raining cats and dogs), so I called Blerim and told him to come and drive me to work with the embassy car.
So today won't be overly stressful. I'm writing a short debriefing mail to lovely boss, at 1 I'll have lunch with Stelios, the Greek Holy Grail. Afterwards I'll drop by at Alexandra's place to say hello to Lola, gym after work, and in the evening I'll take an Austrian friend and colleague out to dinner; he's here on a business trip.

And now I'm going to read Mr H's 37-page rebuttal. Fun!!! But I really want to know what he's got to say for himself, see how sound his arguments are. From what yesterday's glimpse told me I'd say they're not bad.
He told me, BTW, that the investigation team -- although I'm tempted to call them Inquisition Team -- talked to him for seven (!!!) hours straight, trying every trick in the book, i.e. playing good cop - bad cop, having the one female member of the team provoke him so as to make him show agressive behaviour towards women, asking the same questions twenty times... At least he laughed when I asked whether thumbscrews and/or cigarette burns had been involved.
So I'm kinda, sorta, taking back what I said last Monday, i.e. that he's unable to connect/ communicate/ empathize -- if´that was how he is, he wouldn't have spotted what they were trying to do. Maybe it's really just a case of being so overwhelmed by the whole shitty situation that he simply drifts away and sometimes just can't stand company anymore. That, however, doesn't change the fact that such behaviour isn't really conducive to having a relationship of pretty much any kind, and that it can hurt other people deeply. The reason is different, but the effect is more or less the same.

And tomorrow, Vienna. Bugger, bugger, bugger. Maybe they'll cancel the flight... (a girl can dream, can't she?)