i was probably in deep sleep, sans the rapid eye movement and the attacks of random apocalyptic imagery. the air conditioner of the bus must have frozen my nerves and prevented me from harboring thoughts about possible weekend adventures. no, i did not care a bit about the olympics, about your new boy, about the new girl, about the stench of your breath, about his new toy, about her new son. it is my eight month, and nothing spectacular have happened lately. no fireworks extravaganza, no hardcore sex, no scandal, no fistfights. nada. it was a bore, so it is better to kill the boredom away by falling under the spell of morpheus. i woke up at exactly 8:11. arms numb from the freezing ac of the bus, i chase the morning train to start my friday right.