15th of November 2009

Seconds, minutes, hours, I was spending more than the usual giving a romantic glance to the watch on my desktop. The work became lighter to me, since I started to fight for a better cause. I was feeling like an evangelical pastor who had to survive the harshness of the most remote regions of Africa, without fear nor discomfort, since the taste of a wine sweeter than the champagne served on Cecil Rhodes' table was waiting for him in a better world. Although I'm still doubting that sir Cecil would have ever asked for sweet Champagne, I found the struggle ahead inspiring, prone to face the incoming difficulties with the fanaticism of a true believer.

I suddenly realized that I was typing faster than usual, producing lines of code of the highest quality . I doubt if the Java I wrote conformed to the outstanding level I've afterwards claimed in most of my memories and memoirs, yet I felt less in debt with my self-esteem. The improved conditions allowed me to gain enough time to switch on Google while, having finished some task I had been assigned to, I could afford to delay any notification to the team leader. India and job were my favorite key words. To spot the most appropriate combinations to look for a suitable job on the web was getting quite a creative activity. A game per se. The ingenious inventors who conceived so many bizarre tools to escape from the DDR should have resorted to the same amount of creativity and obtained the same level of gratification.

An orchestra playing the scores of John Williams was ringing on the mobile of a colleague. The brasses of the Naboo band were pervasive as much as the choirs of the FDJ. Brueder zur Sonne, zur Freiheit, was the intended jingle. Star Wars just reminded the imperialistic plans of the American administration at the end of the Cold War. Whose conclusion had not already been widely perceived on the side of the Alps where I live. Perhaps the glaciers created an unsurmountable barrier to the wind of the West. The ring tune ceased to attract the attention of my colleagues, when the stout men and the red biologist started to stage an otherwise unimaginable verbal fight. Both of them got quite nasty, although the quarrel had no well sounded ground.

The sky was getting darker and I had to plan how to spend my second night in the premises. The idea was to buy some edibles at the local supermarket. I wanted to made it low cost, all the money I earned had to be used for the higher cause I was fighting for. Living like a beggar, or not much better, was also an undetectable way to underline the unjust treatment received by high qualified profiles in the Italian market. Yet sleeping like a miserable shouldn't hinder my intellectual skills that, more than in any other situation, I couldn't afford to weaken. I had to maintain the endurance of the Kruppstahl. Some shopping in a retail for outdoor and camping would had fit to my plans.