She’s home

Today, around 5 p.m., Rada got home for the first time after the accident.

She will have to stay in bed for another 4 weeks, but it’s all so much easier now, when she’s here, at home. Being next to her for the last month made me most fulfilled I have ever been. She’s safe, she’s home.

Self-assessing again

These days I was reading a former trainee’s blog and I found an interesting self-awareness test.

If you want to take the test I can give you two pieces of advice. 1 – invest more time in it than I did. 2 – if you didn’t, debate the conclusions less than I did. :o)

Good luck. Here is my latest personal DNA.

Children of the rush

Trying to re-integrate myself in my life, I noticed these days that I’m not doing this just perfect.

I’m up at 8 every day, working and running throughout the day to the night. I spend as much time as I can with Rada, I put as much as I can in AIESEC, I think as much as I can about the following months. Every night I go to bed around 2 o’clock, just to wake up for an early meeting the next day.

It’s just like in the old times. I feel busy, I feel important, I feel useful. But I think I’m missing some links here. I’m so in a rush that I can’t stop anymore. I get again the feeling of “I have to do that, otherwise everything will ruin apart”.

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Never second chances

Last night I had a short conversation with a good friend. Nothing very deep, just simple things about old times, simple things about future. It felt so good and it made me think that my life is on the track again.

Actually, something very basic about human nature is that we always hope for second chances. Every time we get them, we feel lucky and promise we’ll do better from that moment on. Some even make this happen.

But not necessarily each of us is better that the other 6 billion, so whose right is it to ask for second chances?

What I have to do is simple. I know what my dreams are, I know where I’m going. I need now not to fill my day with stuff. I need to make every day count. Then I’ll be doing the right thing. Because I know it’s easy to simply die.

Mărţişorul, a true story

There is a Romanian tradition called “mărţişor” (English: trinket, amulet, Frech: pendantif).

Nowadays it’s basically about boys giving presents to the girls on the 1st of march and also on the 8th. The traditional red-white string is now just an accessory to the big shiny presents. Let me tell you what’ the true meaning of this tradition, as I systematically boycott this falsified holiday…

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Pulvis, poezia mea favorită

de George Bacovia

Imensitate, veşnicie,
Tu, haos, care toate-aduni…
În golul tău e nebunie
Şi tu ne faci pe toţi nebuni.

În faţa ta sunt cel mai laş.
Imensitate, veşnicie,
- Iubesc o fată din oraş…
Învaţă-mă filosofie.

Imensitate, veşnicie,
Pe când eu tremur în delir,
Cu ce supremă ironie
Arăţi în fund un cimitir.

About changes and chances

This morning I came home from the hospital and I realized I haven’t slept at home since the accident.

You feel something beyond description when you get in a bed you use to share with someone you love and realize that she won’t be able to be there with you because she’s in a hospital, facing pain every day. That’s a change I find so unjust…

And then I think of people who simply die in car accidents. And about their husbands or lovers… What can their thoughts be when they go to bed?

From time to time I will let you know about us through this blog. And from time to time I will share some of my thoughts here, to make sure I am not the only one learning how precious life is and how big are the chances we get.

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