Ga je nou zelf ook wat schrijven? :3
I’m feeling much less awful about uni now. Before class, I was chatting to one of my classmates—which I usually never do because AHHAHAHAHA TALK TO PEOPLE I DON’T KNOW WHY WOULD I DO THAT GO AWAY—and she told me she was intimidated by the courses.
Hey, me too!
She was surprised, as she thought that I was doing pretty okay.
I was also surprised, as I had thought the exact same as her.
That was just so comforting that I felt I could contribute to class without being an utter waste of time, and something I said even got my tutor enthusiastic.
So relieved. I’ll still be happy if I just pass with an okay grade and my supervisor not telling me that that’s a few days of his life worth of reading that he’d like to get back, but that is actually an improvement over how I was feeling about uni before this evening.
BACK TO DRINKING THIS TEA AND PLAYING VIDEO GAMES IN CELEBRATION
Okay I know cats don’t really have facial expressions to speak of
But I swear The Mog just gave me an OH GOD I CAN SEE FOREVER-look when he realised that he could look at me via the mirror.
Me: Right, I’m just going to have a quick shower.
Other person: Would you like some tea?
I’m all about tea, but tea in the shower? I mean, really? Next time I’m just going to call out that I’m going to go ride the Leopluradon down the shop, seeing as what I’m going to do is apparently irrelevant to the OFFER OF GODDAMN TEA.
Which, thinking about it, is rather amazing.
Things I think
‘Is that a nose piercing in my bed? Oh, never mind, it’s a leaf.’
Sometimes I wonder if I’m dedicated to this degree, and then I remember that I’m missing an Electric Six concert in order to attend class.
Yesterday, it was reported that eighty-four-year-old actor Dick Van Dyke had fallen asleep on his surfboard in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, drifted so far out that he lost sight of land, woke up to discover his predicament, assumed he was going to die on the open water, but then was guided safely back to shore by a pod of porpoises. Talking to reporters later, the actor is quoted as saying, “I’m not kidding.” This is one of those news stories so rich in kookiness that it is nearly impossible to put your finger on what part of it is the kookiest. Is it the fact that Dick Van Dyke surfs? The fact that any eighty-four-year-old surfs? Is it the simple and slightly surprising—and heartening—fact that Dick Van Dyke is still alive? Or just the notion that any sentient creature could fall asleep on a surfboard in open water?
The only part of the story that doesn’t amaze is the fact that a pod of porpoises would see a floating, drowsy light-comic actor—who might have peaked with his portrayal of Rob Petrie but did excellent work in “Bye Bye Birdie” and “Mary Poppins” and even better work as the voice of Mr. Bloomsberry in “Curious George”—and guide him back to dry land. Then again, animals are so predictable that way.
This sounds like some kind of absurd short story, and the fact that it’s true makes me want to weep with joy.
My cat is asleep, lying on his back next to the radiator.
He just woke up, reached for my cup of tea, then fell asleep again.
‘The sound of my voice makes vaginas resonate.’
I have the most amazing boyfriend in the history of WHAT.
I handed in the worst essay ever, I should have done more to make it clear that I was leaving that commission (ffs I sent people a huge document detailing what it was I did so that someone else could take over and I was told that a replacement had been sorted out)—I’m just so stressed out at the moment. My sleeping pattern is fucked and so I’m up at almost 6am, no sleep, and I’ve got no one to help calm me down.
I just need to hear from someone else that I’ve done all I can do and that’s that. I keep telling myself, but it just doesn’t work as well.