So it’s been a while since I did a regular post that wasn’t a complaint. I mean, I think I complain too much, but what can you do? Okay, so maybe I’ll complain a little. It’s just what I do.
Anyway, for a week now I’ve had the cold from hell. It started as a ninja cough. Then it morphed into a sore throat. Then the cough happened in earnest. Then the flu symptoms came. Spoiler alert: It wasn’t the flu, it just felt like it. And now after days of chicken soup therapy I’m finally feeling almost human again. I actually did some stretching and some light pilates exercises this morning; I thought I was going to die, or tear a muscle, or both, not necessarily in that order. Damn you, frail mortal body!
So now I’m feeding myself vitamins left, right and centre because I have a big two weeks coming up and I don’t want to be a biohazard on legs, I mean, that’s how the plague started. Unfortunately it’s still frowned upon to go out in public in a surgical looking face mask because somehow this still ain’t Japan and you’re just going to creep people out. The semester’s slooowly gaining altitude and I finally have things to do again. The long boring summer is finally over. I’m officially at the age where I hate summer. Because there’s nothing to do. I mean, there’s job hunting, but I do that every other time of the year. But now with the new school year I have my sort-of job back and while it doesn’t pay anything worth mentioning at least it’s something to do. Forms to fill out. Questions to answer. Butts to kick. I need constant tasks or else I’m just not functioning.
Sooo… I’ll be busy come Wednesday. Nothing better than being busy. I know we live in a world were being busy is glorified to the point of sheer madness that’s sending millions of people on a direct route to burnout hell, but what can you do, that mindset certainly got me hook, line and sinker. Being busy is still better than having nothing worthwhile to do. It’s why the stereotype of the substance abusing housewife exists. Sure, stress is evil. No one likes feeling like they have no time to themselves and no time to get everything done, and cutting sleep and food from your schedule is bad for ya, son. But you know what’s worse? Not knowing what to do with your free time. It’s kinda like when you’re depressed and the depression finally breaks and suddenly you’re angry at the entire freakin’ world, but you like it. Anything is better than feeling depressed. And lounging in your PJs on Saturday eating cookies for breakfast is only fun if you don’t get to do it the rest of the week.
It’s like my brain needs constant stimulation alternated with some serious downtime, it’s weird.
Also, I figured out how to make porridge in the microwave, the future is now.
Also also, it’s autumn. The weather’s agreeable and all the further education places are open again. My savings account is not going to like it, but I think it’s going to be worthwhile in the end to take some seminars, get some training in related areas, that kind of thing. Problem is, most of those require me to pick up a phone. I hate phoning. Aren’t we at that stage of the century yet where you can text people for information?
Well, apparently not. After all, there’s still fax machines. It’s not the future when there’s still fax machines. The future really isn’t what it used to be.
Also, apparently this blog has been around for a year now. Jup. Still wasting my life on the internet. Maybe I should do a post on that.