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grrrrraaaargh
Monday, 30 July 2007 11:16 amAh, Monday, and the first day of term. I wondered why I was hiding under my bed.
This morning was rendered more than usually surreal by what I can only describe as a Quadrille, possibly of the lobster variety, for Box of Cat, Front Door Key, Misplaced Gardener, Loaf of Bread and Traffic. Fishy was duly delivered to the vet for purposes of biopsy, and incidentally claw-clipping while she's safely out under the anaesthetic. (This was by the vet's suggestion: she usually tries to bite him). Thereafter I had to go and enable the access of Jackson, our Cheerfully Competent Gardener, to the home of his new employers jo&stv, for purposes of subduing their wild and tangly garden. I reflect with pride on the fact that this was actually achieved, despite the best efforts of a Front Door Key That Wasn't, and the absence of gardener breakfast owing to extreme socialising, the new sport, yesterday. Bugger. I just realised that in the confusion I forgot to give him the caution about the mulch pit. Sorry, jo.
Anyway, after setting, turning, swopping partners and what have you, I arrived on campus surprisingly close to 9am to find a 20-student queue in the corridor outside my office. Have been giving wall-to-wall curriculum advice ever since, stopping only five minutes ago by dint of forcibly locking my door. I need a breather before I start my official three-hour curriculum advice session at 12.30. Something wrong with this picture. Apart from my salary.
Surprisingly, I am actually feeling better today - yesterday was exceptionally bad for post-glandular exhaustion, putting a bit of a damper on jo&stv's rather enjoyable Pastafarian Celebration (dress like pirate, eat noodly goodness, exchange gifts extremely randomly. I am rejoicing in having successfully foisted on jo&stv the pink plastic pig that shoots fire from his nostrils when you snap his fez.)
Last Night I Dreamed: a bizarre futuristic cityscape including giant buildings hanging in the air. I had to infiltrate the aerial hospital to bring the vital message and the magical breastplate to the badly-injured heroic person before she suicided by pulling out all the tubes plugged into her. Later, I demonstrated l33t military skill in a firefight, overcoming an enemy armoured vehicle by means of precision sharpshooting and a highly-trained Todal and Golux.
This morning was rendered more than usually surreal by what I can only describe as a Quadrille, possibly of the lobster variety, for Box of Cat, Front Door Key, Misplaced Gardener, Loaf of Bread and Traffic. Fishy was duly delivered to the vet for purposes of biopsy, and incidentally claw-clipping while she's safely out under the anaesthetic. (This was by the vet's suggestion: she usually tries to bite him). Thereafter I had to go and enable the access of Jackson, our Cheerfully Competent Gardener, to the home of his new employers jo&stv, for purposes of subduing their wild and tangly garden. I reflect with pride on the fact that this was actually achieved, despite the best efforts of a Front Door Key That Wasn't, and the absence of gardener breakfast owing to extreme socialising, the new sport, yesterday. Bugger. I just realised that in the confusion I forgot to give him the caution about the mulch pit. Sorry, jo.
Anyway, after setting, turning, swopping partners and what have you, I arrived on campus surprisingly close to 9am to find a 20-student queue in the corridor outside my office. Have been giving wall-to-wall curriculum advice ever since, stopping only five minutes ago by dint of forcibly locking my door. I need a breather before I start my official three-hour curriculum advice session at 12.30. Something wrong with this picture. Apart from my salary.
Surprisingly, I am actually feeling better today - yesterday was exceptionally bad for post-glandular exhaustion, putting a bit of a damper on jo&stv's rather enjoyable Pastafarian Celebration (dress like pirate, eat noodly goodness, exchange gifts extremely randomly. I am rejoicing in having successfully foisted on jo&stv the pink plastic pig that shoots fire from his nostrils when you snap his fez.)
Last Night I Dreamed: a bizarre futuristic cityscape including giant buildings hanging in the air. I had to infiltrate the aerial hospital to bring the vital message and the magical breastplate to the badly-injured heroic person before she suicided by pulling out all the tubes plugged into her. Later, I demonstrated l33t military skill in a firefight, overcoming an enemy armoured vehicle by means of precision sharpshooting and a highly-trained Todal and Golux.
