When you write the name "Ludmilla" are you writing of the person I never see because she works all the goddamned time? The phone begins to chirp and the alarm begins to ring far before any civilized person would be opening their eyes, at a time when one should be barely arriving at home after an evening out, but there has been no evening out because of the aforementioned work and work. And is there a break in the evening? Why no. And who goes to sleep alone, shivering under the meager covers because his love is not present?What did you say? Maybe on the weekend? Why, living with "Ludmilla" I have lost track of the days of the week as they are all cut from the same cloth. That is, the cloth of work and work and more work.

erling phd