He's sitting on our couch here. Now he is sitting next to the computor making me smile. I am such a dork.
A dork who is feeling better, though. While it may be the unhealthy amounts of Tylenol I take, the "sick" part of this virus is like gone, and I feel healthy enough to do anything. Unfortunately, I'm still a walking pox and will risk infecting Imladris if I touch anything. (Although I don't think it will be entirely my fault if she gets sick, because I came home from work last Tuesday night- when I was really contagious- and the pillows and such on my bed were arranged in the shape of a person, and several pairs of shoes were scattered by the foot of the bed. I'm just saying.) So I'm kind of just going stircrazy now and playing with my Jack dolly.
I'm also thinking about exactly how much money I'm missing out on making. It's gonna be a while before I can get back to work, because while I'm sure my customers will be glad that I am no longer pussy and swollen, they probably will not feel like buying food from somebody covered in scabs. I'm just guessing.
Having another major academic crisis, y'all. I know, I know, it seems like I have one of those every week. Which is kind of true. At least for most of the year. Occasionally I'll have bursts of happiness where I'm completely content and fulfilled for longer than seven or eight days, but it doesn't happen often.
Anyhoodles, the crisis du jour is pretty much the same as the last sixteen crisises (what's the plural of crisis? Crisises? Is that right?)---what the hell do I want out of life. Because now I'm thinking, as I've been thinking off and on, that maybe the perfect thing to do that would guarantee me never having to sit in a cubicle for ten hours a day is to plan on getting my PhD and teach at some university. I'm thinking art history or regular history. Think about it. I could wear normal clothes, talk a lot about esoteric subjects that are of interest pretty much only to me, get a cute office, and have the summers off. Plus, people would call me "Dr. something". Godwilling "something" will be different than my last name now.
The dilemma comes in when I realize that that is so divergent from my actual major that there is very little way I could prepare for both of them, which means at some point I would have to make a decision and I'm very, VERY bad at making decisions, especially about my future. This is why I'm taking French and Russian, not one or the other.
Argh. I'm going to go bury my head in the sand. That is one thing I am VERY good at.
Wouldn't want my CSI's to think I've forgotten about them what with all the Pirates-related screaming and fainting going on around here. (Hey- if McDonalds made a Grissom doll I'd have it too...)
So what else is going on? Not a whole lot. I've taken to sleeping large chunks of the day to pass the time and then taking Benadryl at night to go to sleep. You know, a lot of people prefer a more hollistic approach when they're sick---eating right, going with their bodies. Whatever. I can't keep down solid food and I prefer to squash whatever natural instinct my body has with some pill, be it Tylenol, Benadryl, or Valtrex.
Been watching WAY too much VH1, which is sad because I've seen every single I Love the '70's Volume 2 thing they have, except 1979.
Wow. That was a tragic decade. The hair, the clothes, the music, the dancing, the people. Oh God. I'm feeling a little bit nauseous. And I feel badly saying that, I really do, because the '70s were my parents time. That was like their whole high school/college/being real peole time, and I just feel a little bit sad for them because it looked like it SUCKED. No offense.
It does kind of make me wonder if in thirty years my daughter is going to be doing whatever it is they do instead of blogging about how awful the 2000s were. And then I'd have to remind her that while she was obscenely expenseive, I could still return her to China, so she had better keep her opinions to herself. Yeah, I'm gonna be a good mom.
Oh, and I've got so many links to comment on!!!
Yo Blair: The Transcript. Me? I want to know who this "honey" is that they're talking about. That's more interesting than Syria and Lebanon, no? And don't worry about Blair. If he can survive the Attack of the New Labour Mullett, I think he can handle this.
Did anyone NOT see this coming? Their union was pretty much just a joint syphillis-sharing session. We all knew it was coming. It barely deserves its own link.
Oh!!!!!! Helen Feilding had a baby!!! Congratulations Woman-Who-Made-My-Life-Better-Through-Plucky-British-Heroines!!!!!
Wow. I suddenly think that this would be better for the sanctity of marriage than this. Think of the diseases, people. *shivers*
I'm going to try to go see if maybe a touch of artsy scandal makes me want/hate academia any more. Have a good day!!!
1 comment:
Yo Blair. Hehehehe. YO, ADRIEN!!!!
The plural of crisis is crises.
You're welcome.
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