I think I'll end swallowed by my own yawning at this rate. But that's okay, it's a fair price for not having slept at all in the last two weeks. I crawl into this comatose since this morning, having made the one and a half last night to the fires of St. John in the middle of downtown Florence with the wonder of man and some friends. If for no other then this morning I had the oral literature of the French (30), after the computer for the ECDL (30) yesterday morning. And then I crashed into the fixed bed this afternoon, with the result of having slept five hours in a row and be even more muted than before. But that's fine, I'm so well that nothing really seems to be a hindrance. The problems were solved by themselves seem to have no need to grab their weapons and set fire to various cities. I'm here, with four more exams to be given in this session in two weeks, with this smile on his face and he has no intention of being washed away. But since I do not know what else to add is better if I catapult on the bed again. So you know, that's what makes the dormice. They sleep, what I did for six months, no failing to understand what I had in front of every single day with him. Best if your alarm clock this time, come on.
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