Wednesday, 17 December 2008. 15:42:24.

Wednesday, 17 December 2008. 15:42:24. To night dream: I am in the office. With a very smart furniture. Something between setting for the “The Firm” and a redaction from the Nicolson’s “Wolf”. Notable elegant from fifties, working desks made on clear pine. Spacious, full of light and clean air with flush greenery in every corner. My desk turned to the glass wall, like that Japanese big corporations, the type of Sumitomo Bank Inc. do. They don’t lie out; they put “burned” man, like me, in a very high floor facing the sky, and that’s it. To the end of his days. The office has another five large tables. One on my left, “my chief’s” desk. Who is in his early fifties, short high сопля (чмо), who is never present, well, “something wrong with him” type person. Maybe because of his grand dad who was a President-in-waiting of this corporation? Than, behind us, another four tables, linked together in a letter “L” shape. We, three of us, ready to make some kind of report. Me, “my chief” waiting for, seems someone between Charles the II and my brother, to him was ready, to take the notice of our reports. Inside of this letter”L” shape tables, I see Ratka, who is handling the notes. Notes full of her writing in two languages. Seems, one in English and another in her proper language. But I see too, stunningly, with her my notes, which somebody steal from my desk!