Offside in sight, inside out of sight.

True, I haven't been on the talkative side lately. For starters it's that time of the year again when the usual suspects are making more demands on me and my time than I care for. It's rolling-the-dice-time for the summer term reports and the inevitable heaps of last-minute tests. At the same time, it's the hot (indeed, haha) phase at university too: exams, recitals and more recitals looming just behind the next World-Cup-flag-adorned corner. And again I'm at that point where my body is gently trying to tell me that its battery is worn down. I feel like an old woman in the GP's waiting room the way I find some new ailment to complain about every single day. When really I'm just tired.
Then of course I have my work cut out trying to follow as many football matches as possible. Quite time-consuming that. And it turns out it's pretty hard to concentrate on finishing even one straight sentence here when every 35 seconds the commentator in the background is raising his voice in that drama-foreboding way that makes me switch over again and again to watch those Portuguese lose in the round of sixteen.
Oh, and in case you were wondering (or not): Yes, it's just about as hot up here under the roof as you might imagine. Not a sweat drop different from last year.

So, it's a matter of trying to hold on to as many brain cells as possible in this heat. When really all I'm waiting for is this: