This morning was quite the same as the previous ones except some rush of hurry. I wear eye lenses again and have nice time at the daybreak trying to get at the eyes. When I went out there were so little people at the streets that I comforted myself with the idea of calm beginning of the working day. But I was totally wrong. Firstly I had to contunue printing, then get new orders. The first woman who came for making photos was a strange one. However I may be cold and formal enough to refuse from the hand-made gifts and listening the stories of her unlucky purchases at the butcher shop. The following ones were not less droll. The man wanted his photos earlier then I said him and what a surprise it’d been when it wasn’t ready by the desired time. It’s a shame for them to not to be able to open the camera flap, isn’t it.
This is just so down to look at their photos and touch their immature points of views. It’s all the same though I can manage with that better. When mom came (late again) it wasn’t a hard task for me to report about everything what happened and what processes were at the printers. And I can understand why it has been becoming hard after some period of work such unhealthy way.
Watching the Mikhalkov’s films with pleasure and interest. Awakening desire to read fiction literature. At the Tuesday evening I’m already at the road to Moscow. So, this is the last “usual” day.