Smile, You're On Life

My laptop has a sensitive spot, as I've recently discovered. Usually it does its best impression of a desktop with a small screen to get by. However, recently, I bought a bean bag. Best decision (whilst sober) I've made in a long time, even though I had to lug 300 litres of beans home via the tram. The thing is huge, I can sit on it, and still have enough space left to use as a mouse pad.

 

So that's exactly what I've done. I now actually use my laptop as a laptop whilst submerged in my bean bag. And laptops, I've also discovered, get pretty hot after a while. It's probably not a bad thing in the winter, but it's pretty unbearable in the summer, when 30 degree ambient temperature plus fifty degree hot plate (aka bottom of my laptop) results in medium rare thighs. So I shuffle it around once in a while to make sure it all cooks evenly. And I've found that if I apply pressure to just the right spot in the middle bottom of the screen, I get an instant shortcut to the blue screen of death, do not pass go, do not collect $200.

 

It's not a major issue right now, but I foresee tears when I start writing research essays the day before its due on my laptop, on my lap, come next academic season. Hopefully temperamental electronics becomes a valid excuse for special consideration by then. 

I have to write, on average, about 10,000 of them to submit for formal assessment, every semester. So I'm basically writing a book, albeit a reasonably short one, every year. And next year in all likelihood this is going to go up to 20,000 per semester. And, instead of receiving loyalties like authors, I have to pay for this privilege. Absurd. Oh, and of course, comments from a highly qualified academic informing me of just how small the research component of my research essay was, and that the fact is duly reflected in my grade, unfortunately, some might add, of an otherwise sound piece of writing.

 

Well, if I ever get around to writing an autobiography, and they just don't seem to be trendy these days anymore, I'd at least have plenty of material to throw at it.

Life is occasionally about taking risks. Risks that can impact on the quality of your life for the next little while, or years to come. Alright, I suppose I shouldn't gloat just yet, as I'm not quite in the clear. By some miracle I managed to catch a cold as the weather turned warmer...yeah. I still have this said cold, and Australian University Games, aka the biggest funnest event on the University sports calender, is kicking off on Monday.

 

I would like to believe I'm on track to a full recovery before then. Even after staying up till 2 am last night to fly around in pretend spaceships on the internet. If I still have this cold on Monday, well, it's not getting a chance to get better until the week after, and I'm probably going to have a miserable and painful week. If I do make a full recovery, this is going to be the best week of my life, this year. Well, it'll have some stiff competition from the week I got my new road bike, but I think it'll edge out ahead as I also get to move out this week.

 

Moving out has been a move I've been contemplating for many years. The stars, moons, and other irrelevant celestial bodies have finally aligned in such a fashion as to facilitate the enactment of this plan. The culmination of years of yearning, thus it is inevitably gonna suck when it finally happens. But not to fear, I'll have piles upon piles of academic assignments to keep me distracted from the utter suckiness of it all.

I need to write 500 words related to something I really don't give a rat's rear end about, by the end of today. I need to write, I'm not too sure on this one, as I'd been meaning to check for a couple of weeks now, but somewhere around 1500 to 2000 words about something I don't even know yet by the end of tomorrow. Apparently I also need to demonstrate that I went to the trouble of consulting other people's words about the unknown subject as well.

 

All I can think about, really, is riding my brand new bicycle, which I, co-incidentally, still know nothing about. It is kind of worrying. I told my boss at work, and work is a bicycle shop, that I wanted a new road bike, he smiled and said ok. That was the end of the conversation. I not sure whether I should be worrying about the fact that my boss knows me so well that he wil find exactly what I want without asking a single question, or that he's going to be guided by completely false assumptions that will result in a bicycle I can barely stand to look at, much less ride.

 

At any rate. This latest bout of procrastination, one with me zooming along on my ephereal bicycle, is proving to be rather stubborn. I guess part of it is that there is more or less an endless stream of work. After I'm done with all of these words, my other three subjects will demand that I write more words before some arbitrary deadline. So there is very little motivation to write the current set of words. Especially since I'd just written a lot of words merely last weekend.

 

Will the nightmare never end?

Alright, time for a quick review of my progress on this year's life targets. I have a funny feeling the boss isn't going to be very happy...

 

New job. Check. Have worked at the bicycle store for just over a month now. Have earned about one and a half grand, about to sell myself a bike worth two. Which leads to...

 

Saving up money. See above. If I can convince myself not to buy a new desktop or lots of extra clothes for summer on a whim, there's some hope of this being partially acheived by Christmas, at which point I'll spend it all on a nice holiday somewhere.

 

Learning to do tricks on the skateboard. Body armour still not bought, see above, love myself enough not to want to break myself into 108 pieces.

 

Learn French. Haven't started, going to change this one to Italian though. No one I know speaks French, will have more opportunities to actually use the language with Italian, unless I somehow save up enough money to take a trip to Europe by Christmas.

 

Train for marathon. This one isn't completely my fault, my legs went through a stage of major pain, so I toned down the training to preserve my ability to walk. May still be on track for a half marathon though.

 

Ok, three months to go, not doing too badly. 

Apparently there is scientific research establishing that drug and alchol abuse stunts emotional growth. Whatever emotional age you begin, you will remain at that age. I am, of course, way beyond the 16 mark, but there's an interesting thought, if my twenties happen to prove addictive. 

 

Watching Boston Legal is definitely the best way to think over a take home exam, if only the subject matter was something more interesting then a contract for hospital products. At any rate, the sooner this week is over, the better.

At some point last month I promised myself to start taking my University studies seriously. So I now actually listen to what is said in class rather then use the time to get in a quick power nap. From what I've heard so far this semester, it would appear that most people, many of whom tacitly, view the court as a forum to regulate social equality. The weak and vulnerable needs the court's protection, to be sheltered from relentless exploitation by evil megacorporations and people in positions of power.

 

To an extent this view of using the court as a regulator of morality and social equality is introduced by its conduct, that often take into account the capacity and moral conduct of the litigants in its decisions. Part of the confusion is also caused by socialist theories, that, in order to overcome the greed and selfishness that is human nature, integrate the law into its models so that its ideals are enforced. Finally, since the classic era, the courts of law have been perverted as an instrument serving to justify the creation of social inequality, and its eventual correction.

 

But the court has nothing to do with social equality, that is the task of the government. Neither does it have anything to do with moral conduct, that is the jurisdiction of the Church. And I use the term Church very loosely here, it happens to serve as a good summary of the concept of acceptable social norms.

 

The court's task is to maintain the status quo until it is told otherwise. And I emphasize "told otherwise". In its traditional cast as a guardian, the court preserves and protect what is, it does not instruct, nor does it reform. The court derives its authority and legitimacy from its consistency. It does not care for the social 'justice' of the principles that it upholds, it merely needs to know that those principles, until instructed otherwise by a legitimate authority, will be applied in the same way over and over again. A blind man is not expected, nor is he actually capable of identifying the so called 'weak and vulnerable' in order protect them. Neither is the court.

You can't really have it and eat it too. Because if you eat it, you obviously no longer have it. Well, you won't have it for much longer, at any rate. So, as irrational as it is to want to have the cake and eat it too, I still want it. There is simply no room for logic when it comes to greed.

 

Just a mere few weeks back, I was kind of unhappy. I had all this free time, but also all of about 12 dollars in my bank account. A monthly subscription to the World of Warcraft, arguably one of the best timesinks, cost 15 dollars a month. So I had all this free time and no money to spend it on. Then I found a job, and Uni started. So now I'm working four days a week and going to Uni the other three.

 

As I kind of need to do well this semester, I'm actually studying. Studying well actually consumes a lot of time. I also want to do my job well, I kind of like this one. So now I'm reading everything I can get my hands on about bicycles (yes I'm now officially a bicycle salesman for four days of the week, I pretend to be a Uni student for the other three). Reading, and comprehending information, also takes a lot of time.

 

Then I'm got to squeeze in Frisbee, chores, various social events, a fitness regime and other mandatory activities. This leaves me with pretty much zero "me" time. I would love to get into cycling, but I simply don't have the time. Money is still an issue, but that's mostly because I've got my eye on a six thousand dollar bike, and there is simply no satiating my desire for the latest laptops and other assorted gadgets. But it certainly isn't so tight to the point where I need to think about whether I can afford the next beer before heading out (yeah, it was that bad at one point). Now the problem is that I don't really have the time to enjoy a beer.

 

Of course, if I gave up my job now, I'd free up four whole days, counting the time I spend commuting, that's about 40 extra hours. But then I'd go back to the situation where I have no money... Maybe I just won't have cake.

Alright, so I've just spent the last five days being a bicycle salesperson. I've learnt more about bicycles in that week than I've known my entire life. And it's still not nearly enough. Bicycles are supposed to have a frame and two wheels, and a pair of brakes in case you need to stop in a hurry. But of course, it's always much more complicated than that. There are upwards of three different categories, each with their sub variations, in brakes alone.

 

The measurement standard is also somewhat of a redheaded step-child. In no other industry would inches be given in metric, yes, that's right, the width of a tire is 1.25 inches, not one and a quarter, but 1.25. Gotta love it.

 

Speaking of which, I am beginning to fall in love with the bikes. I have this funny feeling that my first few months wages will most likely go into a lazy cruiser or a nifty little racer. I guess it's true that if you spend enough time with anything you'll grow attached to it.

 

The customers are quite interesting as well. There is a surprisingly wide range of characters making their appearance at a bike shop, from laid back hippies to high flying execs sending their personal assistants on an errand.

 

All in all it has been a pleasant five days, certainly the most pleasant five working days. Though maybe not so much for my poor legs. A good couple of days off should sort that out.

 

 

I have started playing World of Warcraft as of yesterday. Four years later than some, but better late than never.

 

According to most Warcraft is the most addictive substance known to man. It has, as popular opinion would have it, destroyed lives, families, and possibly perverted normal, down to earth people into 1337 spewing nerds suffering from severe vitamin D deficiency by the millions. But as usual, popular opinion tends to be over dramatic.

 

Not that it is to blame. In a world full of naked animal rights advocates, senile presidential candidates (I'd go with black, but then I'd come across as racist or something, people care less when you pick on the elderly for some reason, happily living the lie that they will never, gasp, become old themselves. To be fair though, there are those out there who don't plan to live past 30), and ridiculous petrol prices, you've gotta have a niche to get any attention. And humans love drama, possibly even more than sex.

 

At any rate. It wasn't so bad. I hardly consider myself addicted. Sure it's enjoyable, and I can see that there is plenty to do. But there is no rush to try and get everything done all at once. I am, after all, on holiday.

 

I think server maintainence should be over by now. I've got to go now, and, ahem, clean my room.

Well, it's been a month. Certainly doesn't feel like that much time has passed. Actually, I'm not sure if it feels too short or too long, a lot of things got done in the last month, and there is still a lot more to do. But the biggest problem at present is quite predictably that same old question again, just what, will I have for dinner?

 

I've ruled out the cooking option, in the past 24 hours I've managed to pack, get on a plane to move myself from Auckland to Melbourne, pay bills, clean up the house (dad's coming home, though, of course, these two events are purely coincidental), and play frisbee. I'm definitely not going to add cooking to that list, not to mention my legs are still hurting from playing frisbee.

 

So I'm going to eat out. Potential barriers: money isn't a biggie, though I do have to watch my spending a bit now days, what with the getting off work as much as I can and the price of everything skyrocketing; time, plenty of that, I have an earlyish morning tomorrow with training and all, but the rest of the night, which is supposedly still young, is all free for food; sore legs are a bit of an issue, I need to somehow find the motivation to at least get myself to the tram stop.

 

But the biggest problem is figuring out what to eat. Already had sushi for lunch, not to mention it's not all that filling as a dinner option. Maccas, well, at my ripe old age of 21, I'm definitely over that. That leaves the option of pizza, which is kind of too far to walk, but too close to be worth traming. Of course pub food is still available, but I'm also bored of that after having nothing but down in ski town (or, more accurately, village, well, a cluster of buildings might be even closer). Of course, I'm hardly going to walk into a fancy restuarant all alone, I mean, there's no need to go the extra mile to depress myself.

 

So what do I eat. Well, I've made up my mind, there's a 7Eleven just around the corner.

My first exam is next Tuesday. Man does it become a lot closer when you put it down on paper. It's a mere 3 days away, yet in my head its still just a hazy silouhette on the now not so distant horizon. Then I have a 6 day respite before another one, and finally the last one two days after that.

 

Three exams, piece of cake, some might say. In fact, most people have to deal with four. Of course, most people also went to most of their lectures.

 

I've taught myself the intracacies of accounting over the last three days, so that's one of them out of the way. Operations Management is also progressing along rather nicely, and the learning is scheduled to finish before the exam.

 

That leaves Criminal Law and Procedure.

 

Law is stereotypically seen as a "difficult" subject. Over my three years at Uni, and especially studying Law and Commerce side by side, I have learnt to agree with that stereotype.

 

I am by no means calling Commerce stupid. At its most complex issues in Commerce will easily rival that of any other, and is certainly not beneath Law. However, coming back down to Earth, law examinations do tend to be more strenuous.

 

In Commerce you can earn a respectable mark by having a vague recollection of the three or four key concepts taught in the course. Any demonstrate of an ability to apply those concepts will just be cherry on top.

 

In Law you will fail unless you have a tight grasp of every minute detail of every little thing covered by the course, possibly even down to the dietary preferences of the High Court judges on each day of the month. Then you are grudgingly awarded a passing grade if you can show how they can be applied to a variety of situations that on the surface may appear completely unrelated.

 

Getting a respectable grade requires nothing short of a miracle, or, at least in my case, the sacrifice of far too much of your life to the library.

 

Being fully aware of this, I have resolved to at least turn up to all of my law lectures this semester. And I did, to most of them. It was just unfortunate that they were scheduled for 9 am, and my brain typically only arises from its slumber well after noon.

 

This has resulted in me currently being in a most precarious situation. As dear old George has stated, in life, there are many unknown unknowns. Well, I'm going a meta step beyond that, as I'm not even sure if I have any unknown unknowns in terms of the subject matter for Criminal Law. Unknown unknown unknowns. As ridiculous as it looks, it does make sense if you can bend your head around it.

 

 

I celebrated the end of my last semester happy and secure in the knowledge that, barring some bizarre life threatening situation involing a crazy maths teacher from hell, I would never, ever, ever, have to go near numbers beyond the simple NON-scientific calculator again.

 

Then I realised that I needed to do Accounting Reports and Analysis. That's actually not too bad, its just some simple addition, subtraction, and, occasionally, division to get some pretty looking ratios. At any rate, I'd actually consciously signed up for it, so at least I'm mentally prepared for the onslaught.

 

However, somewhere along the way I'd managed to pick up Operations Management as well. Due to the lecture time being in conflict with lunch time, and my inability to get up early enough to have time for breakfast, lunch was always preferrable to lectures. Tutorials weren't much help either, being on Fridays meant getting into the way of ANZAC and Easter. So it wasn't until about week 5 that I figured out I actually needed to do the tutorial work, as, in the latest mutation of attendance encouragement schemes, they actually counted for marks.

 

It was then I found out that Operations Management was just another word for Advanced Maths 201. And now I've got to sit an exam on it in about two week's time.

 

At least I'm perfectly competent at screwing myself over.

Ok, I have to admit, something's gone horribly wrong somewhere.

 

The most interesting I've come across all week was a tiny little article on flatulence tax.

 

Flatulence tax!

 

For cows, of course.

 

No government, despite appearances, is actually stupid enough to enact a tax to bankrupt itself.

 

But, back to my life.

 

When the most interesting thing you can recall for a week's worth of life is flatulence tax...well, there's not much futher to fall.

 

But I'm more concerned by tomorrow.

 

Now that flatulence tax is a thing of the past, however will I keep myself amused for the next week and beyond...

I'm going to write a book.

 

I have wanted to do so for years now.

 

Several attempts have been made in the past, and, typical of teenage crushes, have been left by the wayside with the receding infatuation.

 

I'm not terribly convinced that it will be any different this time around.

 

But with a life so mundane that my typical day can be summed up by a mere handful of words (wake, eat, work, play and sleep, not necessarily in that order or proportion) and a bare speckle at the end of a very long tunnel, I need to distract myself with something interesting.

 

And, for the foreseeable future at least, playing God seems to fit that bill.

 

 

"Go to court or you will not pass!" was probably a good summary of the important bits of the first criminal law seminar this semester.

 

That was a mandate issued some 8 weeks back, and has finally been fulfilled today.

 

Melbourne has conveniently gathered all of its important court houses within one district on the inner city and then went on to spectacularly fail at co-ordinating them so that instead of needing to clear security just once, you risk getting yourself strip searched each time you progress through the hierarchy.

 

At any rate, our lively group of ten, laden with our metallic belt buckles, jewlery and I think a swiss army knife, made it through ok (well, except for the swiss army knife).

 

A chat with the clerk on duty revealed that the most interesting thing happening at the Magistrate's court today was a series of summary hearings.

 

Three years of law school tells me I should know what a summary hearing is, but my mind is being stubborn.

 

Basically all of the defendants have pleaded guilty, at the earliest opportunity, as counsel gleefully reminded us, and was merely there for sentencing.

 

Kind of like judgement day, except instead of the Almighty you're up against a lady on the wrong side of middle age, and decidedly not wearing a hair piece.

 

I'd try to make this sound interesting with dramatic overtures and libelous falsifications, but mundane driving offences involving just the driver and his car (and where neither gets hurt) can only be stretched so far.

 

The standard issue $300 dollar fine to be paid in two months meted out over and again certainly does not help either. Although for one of the defendants, who was decidely dressed in a somewhat more affluent manner than that of his collegues, the magistrate in her infinite wisdom allowed only one month for the payment of the fine.

 

Court houses are rather like hospitals to be honest, one treats an individual's ills until they die, and the other those of society until it falls apart.

So I have a 3,000 word assignment due in two days.

 

Even with the recommendation that the majority of the references should not come from the textbook, so that some form of actual research needs to be performed, it is still conceivably doable in a day.

 

Plus I don't, unlike in previous instances, actually own the textbook, and the quest to the library, on a Sunday, would be a long and arduous one (otherwise known as not going to happen).

 

The point is I still have one more day with which to procrastinate, and I found a tidy little gem ridiculing the ridiculous team names in the newly formed IPL (otherwise known as, Australians playing cricket, in India, because they pay more).

 

It was quite amusing, and I would delve into it further here were it not for the barrage of warnings against plagarism acting as loyal auxiliaries to the great academic war machine otherwise known as formal assessment still fresh in my mind.

 

As a side note I seem to be using "otherwise known as" a lot lately, I'm not sure where this urge to reduce my incoherent excuses for metaphors to the common denominator comes from, perhaps I'm just feeling misunderstood.

 

At any rate, God forbid I plagarise, and in a vile act of defiant indolence commandeer the work of another to compensate for my own lack of charm and wit (and a poor substitute it would be, I might add) lately.

 

Of course there is always the option to reference, but, for better or worse, this little exercise in the finer techniques of verbal vomitting (otherwise known as the blog you're reading) can hardly be cajoled under the blanket protection of "Educational Purposes TM".

 

And to leave oneself open to suits from suits would be most unsuitable.

 

So in summary I came across a rather amusing read whilst procrastinating and then proceeded futher my procrastinative endeavours by writing about it.

 

Good procrastination all round, bravo!

 

Another tournament, another kilo.

 

Seriously, running around for the equivalent of three soccer matches a day for three days in a row somehow gains me weight.

 

I first noticed back in Australian University Games last year, where we had a 2/3/2/3 schedule over four days.

 

I returned home fully expecting to have to make up for lost weight by indulging in deliciously delicious cheesecake.

 

No such luck, almost put on two kilos over that week.

 

It's weird, I can eat and eat and eat, all through the night and early morning, and just hover around 75 ish (that's kilos, not stones).

 

Then I go and run my guts out all day, eat pub/club food, drink like I don't want to live past 30, get about 4 hours sleep before doing the same thing all over again (yeah, I told you frisbee tournaments are awesome fun) and somehow gain weight.

 

Maybe it's the drinking.

 

That's probably not it, I nearly really failed to make it past 30 blacking out from the spirits and came pretty close again a couple of times during my little tour of China, and my weight still stayed the same.

 

I think I'm just going to go with the assumption that muscle weighs more than fat.

My Eve subscription expired about a week ago.

 

At the time I had this genius plan to let it expire, in the hopes that I will finally get some work done.

 

Not to mention I'm too bankrupt to be able to afford the subscription fee at the moment.

 

It's worked for Magic. By distracting myself with frisbee, and simply not going near any Magic outlets, I've more or less quit.

 

Seriously, I don't even riffle through the cards I've got at home anymore, and have not been to the website either.

 

So I figure isolation should work for gaming too.

 

I need to reclaim some time, because assignments, however pointless, still must be done.

 

But isolation for gaming only half worked.

 

I mean, I'm not playing Eve anymore, which is a good thing, but it hasn't really saved me anytime, as I've simply found other games to waste time on.

 

And I can't isolate myself from my computer(s), as I need them for uni work.

 

It sucks, I don't have anywhere near the requisite amount of self-discipline to deal with temptation staring me in the face.

 

Cutting down frisbee time isn't really the optimal solution, as it's about the only thing keeping me fit, and frankly I like being fit, it feels good.

 

I guess I could always cut into sleep. I'm sleeping way too much at the moment anyway.

 

In theory you only need about 8 hours a night, so that's two hours I can save right there.

 

The next step would be to encourage my evolutionary functions to start chipping away at that eight.

Anniversary is kind of misleading, this is more of a bi-annual event.

 

That's right, assignment due dates are again looming just over the horizon.

 

I'm going to go ahead and believe that I've brought my procrastination under control in time this time.

 

Not that I have actually done any work, but at least I have a vague idea of what needs to be done when, a significant improvement over the last academic period.

 

So I am in a good position to plan out the next month or so and make sure I complete all the necessary work with a comfortable buffer to the deadline. And maybe even redefine comfortable to several days as opposed to the several hours it has historically been.

 

Of course planning ahead early also brings with it its own problems.

 

Such as the stage 1 SAD (Systematic Assignment-Induced Depression) I'm suffering from right now.

 

I'm pretty sure I almost enjoy actually doing work (that is, I'm not really affected by stage 2 SAD), it's the thinking about how much work I'm going to have to do (that is, stage 1 SAD) that annoys me.

 

And all that brooding just paralyses me into more thinking about the ridiculous amount of work I have to do in a rapidly shrinking amount of time, which in turn leads to more brooding.

 

It's a nasty, vicious cycle typical of stage 1 SAD.

 

The solution clearly is to procrastinate.

 

There is a good case for calculated procrastination, you can dodge stage 1 SAD and improve your efficiency (being a ratio of work done/time, a smaller amount of time whilst holding work done constant will lead to higher efficiency. Maths is useful after all).

 

This semester I'm going to introduce to the I-GAP (Integrated Gantt Assisted Procrastination) model (patent to be submitted when I'm done procrastinating).

 

Basically it will be a Gantt chart that takes into account all of my assignments, and most importantly, the associated procrastination schedule.

 

It will be perfect for finding and recording the perfect balance between procrastination and work so I can minimise my stage 1 SAD and be fresh to deal with stage 4 SAD when I get my results back.

 

Plus "scheduled procrastination" has such a nice ironic ring to it!

My usual outfit consists of a pair of plain shorts and a plain t-shirt.

 

Quite literally two pieces of cloth wrapped around my hips and torso.

 

So I should be pretty safe from wardrobe malfunctions right? I mean, there's just not a lot that can go wrong with two pieces of cloth.

 

But of course, me being me, if there's a way to break something, I'll break it, and if there isn't, I'll find a way.

 

So, quite naturally and sensibly, I decide to relieve myself before a two hour long lecture. As I start to engage the only part of my shorts that borders on remotely complex, the last thread holding the belt button decides to give up. Thankfully the button landed on the floor...

 

And I spent the rest of that morning walking around with both hands in my pockets.

 

But it's not over. Even in the task of accidentally embarrassing myself (as opposed to doing it on purpose) I must excel above and beyond the average. And merely one wardrobe malfunction a day is clearly average.

 

Zoom forward 8 hours or so, and another pair of shorts. The scene is just after dusk, and I'm out at Elgin Park, training with Chilly (that's the frisbee club I'm playing with at the moment, by the way).

 

A frisbee rockets towards me low and hard, and I really needed to either catch it or at least get my shins out of the way. So of course I try to do both, and in one swift motion I reposition myself into some sort of split-squat hybrid.

 

I caught the frisbee, for the record. The problem was that instead of the catch being accompanied by the usual loud clap and the oft subsequent "Ow, my finger tips!"

a loud ripping noise drowned out everything else.

 

Alright, they are a reasonably old pair of shorts, but was it really necessary to split completely down the middle and turn into some sort of "concept" mini-skirt?

 

Did I mention that I'm out at Elgin Park, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere and a long walk on public roads from a pair of replacement shorts?

 

So there you go, I managed to somehow accidentally break two pieces of cloth in the space of 8 hours...

 

Some days I'm just lucky I guess.

 

Some days you feel happy just to be alive.

 

Some days every tiny little thing goes your way, overtakes you, and then comes back and picks you up in a limo.

 

Other days the ATM decides to spit out $800 at you in 20s, a fat wad of plastic that in turn gets handed over to the poor cashier at the post office who has to double count it.

 

Such are the days of our lives, well, my life, at least.

 

It has also been raining quite a bit these past few days.

 

Despite being soaked through every couple of days riding to work/home/training, I still like the rain.

 

It keeps the fields nice and soft to lay out on.

 

I guess with the rain we will also finally see the end of Summer.

 

I'm missing it already to be honest, it's too cold...

 

Of course a mere fortnight ago I was complaining about the heat...

 

At some point I've just got to learn to believe that the grass is already pretty darn green where I am.

Imagine lounging outside a cafe in a busy little plaza.

 

It's a sunny and warm thirty degrees, but the sun is kept off your back by an umbrella (possibly made personally by yours truly), and the heat kept at bay by a gentle breeze that blows through a just the right strength to stir up the otherwise still air without being an annoyance.

 

In fact, nothing compares to that warm fuzzy caress as the air glides smoothly over your skin.

 

On the table is half a cup of coffee, the remains of a well crafted cheesecake, and an icy cold bowl of icecream recently brought over by that impossibly cute waitress (substitute in 'waiter' as necessary).

 

The remainder of the afternoon, and being summer, it would be a long one, is spent listening to the street performer in the corner and watching the people around you milling past.

 

And they'd be milling past at a decent pace too.

 

The universe, being the sadistic monopolist it is, doesn't stop for anybody, but at least I can temporarily slow down and reshape my world.

 

The illusion is dangerously addictive.

 

Yeah, it's taken me two whole weeks of Uni to realise I miss the holidays.

 

Thankfully another break is just around the corner for some good old fashioned lazy summer arvo redux.

Well, the last couple of weeks sure went by fast. Clearly too fast for my self indulgent sleeping pattern to keep up with.

 

Putting my lovely self aside, the remainder of problem is that all my lectures this semester finishes by noon, and even eariler on some days.

 

Now that can be seen as a good thing, I'd have the majority of the day to do whatever I please uninterrupted (well, at least uninterrupted by random lectures finding their way to the most inconvenient timeslot possible).

 

The other side of this equation, however, means that my lectures start at 8 or 9 o'clock.

 

I don't really buy into the whole breakfast being the most important meal gospel, but I sure as heck wake up pretty hungry these days, so ideally I'd be getting up at about 7 or 8 am pretty much every week day.

 

Right now just looking at the words 7 or 8 am hurts.

 

So I really should have spent at least the last week adjusting my sleeping pattern to a normal 11-7 ish sleeping period instead of trying to beat my personal best at stay-up-athon.

 

Of course my usual practice of discovering ridiculously addictive computer games right at the end of the holidays didn't help either. (Btw Sins of a Solar Empire is A+++!)

 

So now I'm sort of in this position where I'm tired, but can't really fall asleep, and end up rolling around in bed until I roll off with a nice thump and decide to give up (I sleep on a queen sized bed, it takes a lot of rolling to fall off).

 

Luckily, and in theory, this problem should fix itself soonish.

 

The triumvirte of Uni, frisbee and work should provide some kind of structure to my day. This basically means I can no longer sleep whenever I want as if I miss my commitments there will be lots of angry people who will loudly wake me up.

 

Hopefully this will corner me into sleeping at semi normal hours again.

I've really done it this time.

 

My biological clock, poor battered thing, cannot fix itself anymore.

 

I go to bed at midnight, and then promptly wake up three or four hours later, with no intention of falling asleep again.

 

Then around noon I start feeling sleepy, and around about this time, at three or four in the afternoon, I pretty much fall asleep doing whatever it is I'm doing.

 

Then I wake up after six or seven hours sleep, and the cycle repeats itself.

 

Basically my usual ten hours of sleep has been broken into two, and the majority of it has somehow landed in the afternoon/evening, not a very convenient time at all.

 

And it will only get worse once uni starts.

 

I have no idea how things got this bad. Sure I haven't exactly had regular sleep the couple of days after I got off the plane, and Eve certainly wasn't very help either, but usually when I need to adjust it only takes a couple of days.

 

It's been a week now and things aren't looking like they are improving.

 

And the delusional high I get from wanting to go to bed real bad gets old and boring real fast.

 

In other news the uni's mail server went berserk and sent about a hundred copies of some random's email soliciting a timetable swap. What makes it even more hilarious is that the various angry replies to the spam got replicated a hundred times too.