Ok, today was a very long one, full with empathy and with lots of occasions to enrich my knowledge with the dispatching rules or the number of Ibrahimovic's goals in the A-League. So did I, and I don't have anything to complain about. But, on the other hand, I couldn't help wondering: where would I be now if I'd chosen differently at the right time? Who would I have met without going there? When would I have done this and that if ...? Would have I got laid if...? (Ops, maybe I didn't have to share that). So, kinda like the 'Sliding Doors' movie in which Cameron Diaz (or Gwyneth Paltrow?) entertain us with 2 hours of "what if" question, I spent ten minutes thinking about it (not more, Politecnico would never approve longer pauses). The answer I got was simple: is it really important? I should really care about myself now, not in any imaginary case I cannot ever come back to.
I want to conclude this useless monologue with three overrated sentences, which are my teaching for today: 1. Don't cry over the spilt milk. 2. She sells sea shells on the sea shore (or, if you prefer, "the fat cat sat on the vet's wet hat", said with a typical south-west British accent) and, in the end, the correct motto for Politecnico: 3. Pussy pussy go away, but only for today. Au revoir!
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