So I finally had time to print and bind my dissertation and rushed off from work to university at the end of the day only to find that the administration office was closed, not just for the lunch hour but for the whole day. My much-anticipated moment of exaltation ended up being a futile and joyless search as to where I could dump my piles of paper. I was sorely tempted to just throw them into a rubbish bin, but I threw them into my Supervisor’s pigeon hole instead.
Afterwards, I went to back to Ultimo with Max and the dogs, to have a quiet beer in the park. I got a little drunk and found myself ranting and becoming severely demoralised. Now I’m generally loquacious and when slightly inebriated it’s hard to get a word in around me but I am also uncharacteristically cheerful (and I imagine unbearably witty to boot) after even one standard alcohol unit.
Today, swigging from a large bottle of Belgian beer in the park I was morose and embittered. The miraculously filtered (or unmufflered, depending on your view) joy of being soused is gone.
I guess it’s just another one of life’s many tragedies, like realising too late that you’ve been an arsehole or having your windscreen smashed in by a complete stranger.
It may be the 5am starts and rushing back and forth between university and work, coupled with poor diet and lack of exercise, lack of sleep, lack of recreation, lack of social contact etc. taking its toll on my already low outlook on life.
Friday night means supermarket shopping night!
I have declared biscuits to be currently embargoed comestibles, after I was left with the remains of today’s morning tea in my classroom and got through all of the Arnotts assorted. This was preceded by yesterday’s lunch of a packet of barbecue shapes (additional to regular snacking) so I am officially taking leave from trans-fatty wheat products for a whole fortnight.
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