South Park Self

the stars are still out there but they're all out of light

Gah. One of those days. It started with another specimen of the current reluctant wake syndrome (despite nine hours of sleep), causing me to feel zombified until at least mid-morning. Then it progressed to a guilt-ridden and caterwauling-infested delivery of Golux to the vet - she's been lying in the sun again and her pink nose is developing proto-cancers, necessitating weekly visits for three or four weeks to have them frozen off. During this time she gets to seriously practice both her death-glare, which I think has been modelled on the laser version patented by the late, lamented Fish, and her yowling, which has a sort of smoky, deep-chested jazz contralto quality I can only regard with awe. (Vet to me, when I picked her up and he accidentally crossed gazes with her: "That's one angry cat.") I get to practice my Resist Guilt Trip, which I suck at, and my cunning psychological ploys for grabbing her without thinking about it so that she doesn't read my mind and do a vanishing act. It is, to say the least, a challenging process.

Then I arrived at work to discover that the 9am meeting I'd vaguely thought was on Thursday and which was chaired by the Dean, was today and twenty minutes ago, causing a delayed and precipitate arrival which allowed the Dean to practice her death-glare. (In which I malign her, actually, she was very sweet about it). And when I got back to the office the campus internet had lost its international connection, which means my tabbed Firefox load hung up the computer for thirty minutes while it discovered, in detail, on every single tab and with an attitude of naive discovery every single time, that it couldn't find the relevant server. That'll teach me to leave twenty-three tabs open when I close the programme. Also, clearly interdimensional squid are gnawing on the SEACOM cables again. The bastards. I was trying to put together lecture outlines involving internet culture. You can't do that without an actual connection to, you know, the internet.

Finally, after a two-hour meeting this afternoon and a reverse rehearsal of the Golux-to-vet routine, I arrived home to discover the delayed dentist's bill for the implant and crown I've just had done, which has delivered a R10 000 punch to the solar plexus of my credit card. Given that I'm trying to juggle paying for overseas trips with the nefariously convoluted processes of the university's conference grant system, this isn't helping.

On the other hand, it was a lovely long weekend, which is possibly why today has been particularly villainous by comparison. I finished playing Mass Effect, which was entertaining and absorbing and means there is probably at least one more Andraste's Knicker-Weasel's post in my near future. I annotated a Masters thesis draft on vampires, which was fun - it's a bright student and it's a subject I can really get my teeth into. So to speak. And we did the traditional Easter waffle-consumption session with the Usual Suspects, which was a merry and unhealthily carbo-loaded experience, with champagne and more or less evil-minded conversation. (We have also discovered that Jo, while not being a waffle-eating lifeform, likes flapjacks, so I get to produce two sets of fun-to-cook carbs for the price of one, rendering me a Happy Cook). Plus, my mother's here. Bonus!

Hooray, I've blogged myself into a better mood. Don't let anyone tell you that blogging is dead. I'm going to go and install Mass Effect 2 now. See you in a couple of weeks.