Friday, 1st January 1988
Starting from today, I'll be keeping a regular diary so as to determine how full (or empty) my life is. Years pass by faster and faster, time seems to be slipping through my fingers, while I remain hopelessly stagnant. I seldom have anything to say to friends (of my sister), when the others can narrate lots of adventures. Apart from that, I feel oppressed by my home environment and I want to go away. Surely, I don't intend to grow old together with my parents.
For the time being, I have reasons to hope that my greatest dream will eventually come true: Ever since I was an adolescent, I have always wished to become a famous writer and the dream seems to be on the way to materialization now: Thanks to Chryssa, a cousin of mine who works in a big printing-office in Athens, my fantasy novel “The Conspiracy of Shadows” is in the hands of Mary Bonanos, chief editor of the publishing house Alba Nova.
Mary herself called me the other day, she assured me that my book is very good and that it has been approved by the renowned publisher Varnalis, who is the owner of Alba Nova! Since that day I have been waiting for her news about the publishing process. In the meanwhile, I have also started writing a second fantasy novel, titled “Nemesis”.
Monday, 4th January 1988
This is the first day at work after Christmas vacations and I am bored to death. All those freakish cases on my hands again! On the other side, work is a fine way to forget how hard and thankless life really is...
I spent the whole morning typing contracts and pre-invoices for the Dimoulas Wine Factory, although Mr Zafirakis doesn't hope to do this deal. Moreover, we were informed that the customer's factory caught fire on New Year's Day. “When it was raining luck, I was holding an umbrella” said Lucas bitterly. Finally, however, Mr Dimoulas called and confirmed his order.
When I arrived home at about seven in the evening, I found there Mrs Daphne and Persephone waiting for me. They gave me a pair of plastic earrings as a gift; not anything expensive, but it's the thought that counts. Anyway, Persa is the only person I know, who doesn't resent a meeting with me -even though sometimes I look down on her because she is eleven years younger than me...
Wednesday, 6th January 1988
It's the Epiphany today, and I expect it to be a rather boring holiday. The weather is painfully sunny, which makes me feel even worse, since there is no one to invite me to an outing. Moment by moment, I feel more and more depressed.
In the afternoon I got out and walked along the streets alone; anyway, there are no other entertainment alternatives for me. Moreover, nobody visited us today. As years go by, our house reminds me of a cemetery and I am trapped in it.
The highlight of the day: My father was absent for about three hours, I was left alone with my mother and we started a long conversation regarding the subject I hate most of all, which is my social isolation. This is all my fault, because I'm too frigid and I don't allow the others to approach me, says mum. She got on my nerves, I was distressed, I yelled at her and then I went to my room.
I wanted to listen to some music so as to calm down, but mum rushed in furiously and shouted at me that I am a curmudgeon because I like sitting on a chair and listening to music...
Friday, 8th January 1988
I was working for Kyriakides this afternoon, when Zafirakis called and asked to speak to me. He was in a frantic condition and needed me to help him draw up a fax in Italian, because once again that jerk of Dimoulas had refused to sign the contract and he had demanded even more ridiculous terms of payment. I dictated via telephone the text for the Italian house “Tafel”, Lucas acknowledged my due and the colleague standing next to me was impressed by my knowledge of Italian.
So, it all boils down to this: I yearn for acknowledgment, it is great to be number one and admired by everybody. All the rest is cheap talk...
Saturday, 9th January 1988
Since I started working full time, I have been following a more “normal”, though tiresome routine: home-work-home! I also go to the gym two or three times a week, where I do body building.
I have also started to paint portraits of famous actors, actresses and singers, using pencil colours and markers. The result is better than I had expected.
As for the rest, there has been a rift between my parents and the Markakis family: Always claiming that my parents interfere in their family affairs, three months ago the couple decided to leave my sister's apartment and move to an outhouse in Argyroupolis. At least once a week, my mother and I visit Alice and help her with the housework, while she acts the diva.
So, like every Saturday morning, mum and I visited Alice and helped her with the household chores today. Mum cleaned the kitchen and I babysat little Yanni. I took him in my lap and he told me that he would like to go to school and that he wants to marry Helen, his peer cousin. When I asked him “Do you want to be my husband?” he answered “I am your husband!”. Isn't he sweet?
In the afternoon aunt Pauline came over, together with uncle Alex, who is an air force officer. We had a heated discussion regarding the possibility of my getting a job in some public service. Uncle Alex warned me that in such places only informers and idlers prevail: “Where I work, if someone is conscientious they kick him out!” he said. In two words, I wouldn't stand a chance of surviving in there.
No, I won't apply for a position in any public service, as I initially intended to. Isn't my present job just fine? The people are nice there, they respect me and they appreciate what I do for the company. I don't think I can find a better working environment...
Tuesday, 12th January 1988
Another meaningless day in my life. Nothing exciting ever happens and maybe it's better this way. Let's not rush things. “Stay calm, do nothing. Spring comes, the grass grows by itself” (Zen philosophy).
The only extraordinary thing I did today was body building. There is a small problem, though: When I go to the gym, I see many handsome men there, but the only one who has noticed that I exist is a middle-aged, fat, paunchy, bald cretin, who never takes his eyes off me. Whatever I do, there he is, standing next to me, smiling foolishly! Only such idiots like me, I want to kill myself!
Friday, 15th January 1988
Another hectic day at work. I spent countless hours typing stupidities on the computer. Once again I had to stay overtime, till 7:00 in the evening, because that lunatic of Dimoulas wanted to change the terms of payment, for the umpteenth time, although he has already signed the contract. This is getting ridiculous!
When I finally returned home, I found there Persa waiting for me. She asked me to paint a picture of eggs and chickens, which she will present as her own work at the lesson of Art. Then we exchanged books and I gave her an empty cassette, so that she can record some pop and rock songs for me.
Sunday, 17th January 1988
When I woke up this morning, I expected nothing but another boring day. However, a few hours later my parents and I were heading for Anavyssos, where I decided to buy a nice parcel of land, following an unexpected proposal of my godmother.
The said parcel of land seems to be a good opportunity: It is situated on a low hillside, it has a beautiful view, there is electric current and water supply. It belongs to a settlement called Galini, which is just a few kilometres away from Anavyssos. It costs 390.000 drachmas and I will have to pay 50.000 drachmas in advance. The rest will be paid off in bills, with my own money.
In the evening we were invited by Alice and Antony to dinner. My sister gave me the impression that she was jealous of my newly-bought land. As always, she wants everything for herself...
Monday, 18th January 1988
Another boring day at work. Mr Zafirakis started whining again about the future of the company -which, indeed, doesn't seem to be all roses: That psycho of Dimoulas keeps on cancelling one signed contract after the other. Another “good” customer, Mr John Kranas, always claims that he is destitute and he bargains over the beggarly provision of my boss for hours -what a niggard! To be more precise, he demands that Lucas impor
ts his machinery without being paid a cent.
This morning Lucas was left no other alternative but lie to Kranas that he has borrowed two million drachmas so as to pay the staff! Great; The company I work for is always on the brink of bankruptcy...
I have begun to wonder how all those big, multinational companies manage to stand: No matter what you do, no matter how clever and prudent you are, there are always imponderable factors that can destroy everything, any moment. Besides, the demanded efforts, pains and expenses are usually not worth the while, since the final earnings are generally too low...
Tuesday, 19th January 1988
Since she hasn't been in touch for weeks now, this morning I phoned Mary Bonanos and asked to make an appointment with Varnalis, just as she had advised me to. However, she told me I should wait one more month because, as she said, these days the publisher is snowed under with work because of a problem in the cover of a new book they have been preparing. And for this reason an entire publishing house is paralyzed?
The fact is that I've been waiting for a year now for my book to be published, but my case remains suspiciously stagnant. I wonder if they have been pulling my leg all this time. If there is no progress until spring, I will submit my novel to other publishers as well.
Friday, 22nd January 1988
Mr Zafirakis was absent all day today, so I had to clear the spare parts of Malamos through the customs all by myself. Among the cleared goods there was a membrane too much. So, I notified the Italian house Derossi to send a telex regarding the free shipment of the membrane. Too much ado for nothing.
Late in the afternoon Persephone came over, with her drawing kit in hand. She said that her teacher was mad about the eggs and chickens I painted last Friday. She even considered the painting to be good enough for a coming European art contest, as long as I remake it in black and white -and sign it with Persa's name, of course. Needless to say, I couldn't say no.
Tuesday, 26th January 1988
Just like every day, this morning I met Louise Hoidas on the bus to work. Last night she took the initiative in inviting all our old schoolmates in a cafeteria in Glyfada, but she didn't let me know because she couldn't find my telephone number, she said. Nonsense; in all probability, she didn't want to find it.
The boss didn't appear in the office today and I spent the whole morning with Paul, our new mechanical engineer. He is 28 years old, he has studied in Bulgaria, he is not a trump, but: What a stupid, clueless boor! He isn't capable of carrying through any conversation, he is such a lazybones, he is constantly sleepy! When Lucas is absent, the bloke spends all the working hours making innumerable successive phone calls to everybody! He never puts down the receiver! What a hysterical moron! I would like to fling a vase at his head! The boss is mad at him because he is unable to carry out the simplest task.
Yesterday Paul had to go to a factory in Piraeus and deliver some documents. However, he finally came back with the documents and claimed that he couldn't find the factory at the given address because it had vanished into thin air: “I looked this way, I looked that way, no sign of the factory!” he announced in confusion and Lucas flew off the handle. Nevertheless, that dead loss earns 80.000 drachmas per month while I, who actually run the company, earn no more than 50.000 drachmas, which is the basic salary.
Friday, 29th January 1988
This evening I went to the gym and exercised my legs and back. I also met Greta, a tall German who never stops trumpeting forth that Greeks are inferior to other Europeans. I also saw two familiar boys, I greeted them but I didn't manage to start a discussion with them. Once again I felt too shy -that mysterious sense which prevents me from communicating with people.
I wish I didn't have such sociability problems, but it seems they are a part of my nature. This is never going to change, unless a miracle happens.
On the other hand, neither the others seem to be in the mood for socializing with me: A little later, I was upset by a muscular guy who, as I was walking past, said to those surrounding him: “What's that comedy?”. They all laughed...
Saturday, 6th February 1988
I don't know what's happening to me any more. I feel like suffocating. Early this morning Persa called and demanded I should take her to three different malls in Athens, because she wanted to buy some music cassettes (can't she find them in a local store?). Moreover, she wanted to come over in the evening so that I help her with her homework. After hard negotiations, I managed to avoid the exhausting shopping spree. However, she turned up in the afternoon, I painted a stupid picture for her to show off at school, and she pestered the life out of me with her English homework.
A horrible day I spent with another miserable person, Persephone. Yet, the saddest thing is that there was no other way for me to spend Saturday evening. Who said that life is good? If there is nothing to hope for, then death is more preferable. I am sick and tired of waiting for a miracle! As about my writer's career, it's never going to happen, let's face it. Such successes are never meant for me. Whatever I try to achieve, it always starts with a promise for triumph and it ends with a flop...
With all these problems confronting me, I fear that something dreadful might happen to me in the future. I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be tormented anymore, I've suffered enough so far. What I wish now, is go to sleep tonight and never wake up again. I wish I could live for ever in one of those wonderful, vivid dreams I experience every night. Why do I have to return to this hostile world every morning, where I have no place at all?
Sunday, 7th February 1988
This evening my mother and I went to the theatre, where we watched a nice comedy. There were many famous actors, the play was funny and we had some laughs. Just what I needed...
I have also taken my decisions: Yesterday I was so sad that I feared getting sick. I intend never to let that happen again. It is not worth the while. First of all, I had better avoid people who make me feel miserable. Better no company than bad company. I'll never worry about my social life any more. The fact is that whenever I think about the others, I get upset, stressed, sad, desperate. I feel a lot better when I am alone. When I am “with company”, I constantly feel rejected, confined, imprisoned.
All things considered, my life is fine! I don't have to satisfy anybody's whimseys so as to be invited on a Saturday night outing. Happiness is to be in your element and my element is solitude. The truth is that I am different from the other human beings. Hey, what a relief...
Saturday, 13rd February 1988
This morning my sister and I visited our cousin Niki, who still lives in Glyfada. She has a husband and a cute three-year-old daughter now. Before long I engaged in argument with Mr know-all Constantine, Niki's husband: He insisted that success in life depends on intelligence and strong will, while I claimed that fate has the final word in everything.
“Losers say so,” chuckled Constantine, who thinks he is super successful as an employee in aluminum works.
“Let's suppose you are right; can you tell me, please, why some people are intelligent and some others are not?”
Silence.
“Why do some people have a strong will, and some others don't?”
“But... we are having a conversation here, we aren't asking why this and why that all the time...” stuttered Constantine, who still couldn't find anything to answer back.
In all likelihood, it had never occurred to him before, that mental abilities depend on fate too...
Wednesday, 17th February, 1988
The boss has been absent since Monday, because he had to go to Crete for the installation of a labelling machine. At noon I was upset by a phone call from Dimoulas -how I hate phone calls! The bloke's demands are getting crazier and crazier. I phoned Lucas and let him know about it, but he started yelling that I was to blame for the preposterous ideas of Dimoulas. I'm just sick and tired of all that lunacy called “work”.
Later, at the gym, I was extremely bored; besides, I heard the word “camel” uttere
d many times in a party of boys. I am not sure about what they meant, I don't care anymore, I just realize that my survival in such a hostile environment, for so many months, is a real achievement.
... Every night I return to my wonderful secret life in the world of dreams, where I can travel freely in paradox lands, full of brightness or haze, paradises or hells. There, in my night adventures, I am always the protagonist and I am never bored. I love and relish these spiritual trips more than any everyday experience. I won't get married. I won't sacrifice my night bliss for anyone...
Chapter 20: Indignation