Tonight I came to the clinic for my last internment period, then I will spend the weekend in Montreal before heading to Toronto. I'm video recording little things I find endearing of Montreal, and I plan to put something together as a a way of saying goodbye to the city where I was born.

It's been an amazing five months here. It feels much longer, years even, I guess stemming from all the experiences I've had. I haven't left and I already want to come back. The good news is that, what I am doing now is easy to replicate into the future (as long as I'm healthy and sporty), so I can come back any time I want (and there's not too much snow). I won't write any premature good bye's, I'm still here and I will make the most out of my last weekend.

This internment period I will complete the multi-level feature of Kern Type, so that I can add stages in different languages and writing systems. Perhaps I ought to design a quick stage builder because creating stages by hand is very laborious, I don't want this "feature debt" to accompany me into the future. I want to put out stages as we do quesadillas in Mexico.

I'm also looking forward to going back to Mexico. I will visit friends in Cancún during a month, then--if fortune smiles at me--I will take a two week acroyoga course near Mérida. After this I will spend Christmas in my hometown. I plan to stay put in Puebla for the time being, perhaps I will have a little bit of money to be able to have an adventure.

My mind is already fast-forwarding into the future. How strange, I don't recall ever doing this, I usually register my experience. I guess my mind is already somewhere else. I could describe my weekend, but it is of no use, I danced a lot and I did my deliveries, but I've already written plenty about both. Next weekend I want it to be special. I'll try not to do any deliveries, but sometimes it's just a good way of spending time outside. It's my real-life videogame that pays me money and gets me fit.

Thinking about the future again. I come back to me breathing and the present moment. I am in a white lab-like room, sitting on a high hard plastic chair with the computer sitting on a long gray table which is custom build to the width of the wall. Fluorescent lights illuminate the space. The floor is a shade of ivory with dark strayed specks. The tiles are arranged alternating the strays, but mistakes were made. What you see you can't unsee. Perhaps this is why I insist on going into the future. My present situation is uninspiring, but inside of me I feel inspired and hopeful, if not a little bit tired. I'm always tired after spending some days at the apartment, I don't sleep well there.

It's 9:30pm and tomorrow they will wake us up at 6:30am. They will draw first blood at 8:00, then 8:15, 8:30, 8:45, 9:00, 9:30, 10:00, 10:30, 11:00, 11:30, 12:00, 1:00, 2:00, 4:00, 6:00 and finally 8pm. My veins will hurt by the end of the ordeal. It is difficult to get any work done at all with this schedule, so the first day I use it to get up to speed with small tasks (responding emails, catching up on my chats, buying tickets, making purchases, preparing things so that I don't have to be distracted the rest of the week).

I will put myself to bed now.