If only

I have been back in Berlin for a few days now, sadly falling back in the same routine of resenting work and its authoritarian structure, though appreciating a good bunch of the friends I've made there over the last two years, and losing once again control over my time. Days appear even shorter than they used to back at the Leinestrasse, and in the blink of an eye it's bedtime again, getting up time again, bedtime again, getting up time again... I'm still alone in the flat, although it seems that Flatmate hasn't been disappeared, as he transferred his part of the rent on my account after I sent him an email. He must be feeling ashamed of having forgotten, because he hasn't given any other sign of life. It's starting to annoy me, as we'd said he would be in charge of getting a phone and internet provider, seeing as the cheaper contracts last two years and I'm not planning on staying in the city that long. So, still no phone, and no internet of my own. On top of that, the unprotected wireless network I could access from Flatmate's desk has now disappeared. It was replaced for a day or two by another unprotected network unreassuringly named YouShouldBeMoreCareful. But even this one disappeared.
There are money worries, as the Gas company charged us - or me 500 Euro more than planned for the Leinestrasse contract. I knew prices had gone up, but it still seems extreme. In any case, this is money that was not supposed to disappear in the belly of a large gas company, but rather in the belly of the state's pension black hole for Mr. Big&Important. It is now gone all the same. Perhaps I can set the two in contact.
I think of this German girl I met at a congress last spring, who had lived in a commune in France for a handful of years. As the project started disintegrating, she suddenly asked herself why she even was in France.
I can't help comparing my present living arrangements with the Leinestr, more expensive, less comfortable, less pleasant, 100% free of Mr B&I. I wonder what I'm doing in Berlin. The questions go away when I'm seeing friends, and come back immediately afterwards. I feel entirely rootless, but disturbingly so.
If only I had time, I would write about my glimpse of life in the Longo Mai commune near Forcalquier. About life, the universe, and nothing.