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You know it's a bad day when, during the course of an afternoon's teaching preparation you bury the emergency bar of Cote d'Or noir orange chocolate so far beneath the strata of books, printouts, photocopies, calendars, course outlines, CD cases, remotes, random reading matter and what have you that you can't find it, and are reduced to scrabbling weakly through the debris, too weak from chocolate lack to co-ordinate a proper rescue. I woke up this morning feeling so tired I could barely fall out of bed, and it's only worsened during the day: walking back up to my car this afternoon, I stopped halfway up the hill in order to cry, in a feeble fashion, at the thought of actually activating actual muscles any further. I think I may have actually levitated up the remainder of the hill, it's all a bit of a blur. I am forced to upgrade this Nasty Cold to the level of Horrible Virus 'Flu Thing, because it's simply not going away. Also, two weeks of it? so not fair.
An hour's dose of Fuzzy Academic Waffling In Action, aka a staff meeting, didn't help. You can actually feel the aggolomeration of pedantry, narcissism, self-importance and vagueness rotting the nervous fibre. And I'm still only half way through my course outlines. *sobs weakly*
On the upside, jo&stv descended on us last night in order to cook copious quantities of Thai food, for benefit of Friendly Psychologist and friend. Of course, the horrible ulterior motive was not only to administer moral support to said FP, but to render her drunk enough that she gave us the lowdown on the Internet Romance, success thereof (the man in question departed on Monday after a month's stay in the Mother City). Prognostications seem to be generally good, but we're reserving final judgement until he's actually cooked for us.
Also, when did it get to be August, all suddenly? If I wasn't feeling so feeble I'd be running in circles screaming faintly at the inexorable passage of time, without sufficient actual achievement to punctuate it. Aaargh. Shall distract self by retiring in front of DVD player all evening and ODing on Alias. I so hate Vaughan's wife, I cannot sufficiently express it, I'm hoping someone will off her soon, or at least reveal her as the Bad Guy I know she is underneath. Stupid blonde English person.
An hour's dose of Fuzzy Academic Waffling In Action, aka a staff meeting, didn't help. You can actually feel the aggolomeration of pedantry, narcissism, self-importance and vagueness rotting the nervous fibre. And I'm still only half way through my course outlines. *sobs weakly*
On the upside, jo&stv descended on us last night in order to cook copious quantities of Thai food, for benefit of Friendly Psychologist and friend. Of course, the horrible ulterior motive was not only to administer moral support to said FP, but to render her drunk enough that she gave us the lowdown on the Internet Romance, success thereof (the man in question departed on Monday after a month's stay in the Mother City). Prognostications seem to be generally good, but we're reserving final judgement until he's actually cooked for us.
Also, when did it get to be August, all suddenly? If I wasn't feeling so feeble I'd be running in circles screaming faintly at the inexorable passage of time, without sufficient actual achievement to punctuate it. Aaargh. Shall distract self by retiring in front of DVD player all evening and ODing on Alias. I so hate Vaughan's wife, I cannot sufficiently express it, I'm hoping someone will off her soon, or at least reveal her as the Bad Guy I know she is underneath. Stupid blonde English person.
