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Round 2: Grease and Essays; a Morning’s Tale

February 28, 2013

Real stuff to say this time. That’s always neat.

I’ve been quite sick as of late. It’s set me back a semester in school, as of now. I should be honest and say that the other way. Let me try again.

I’ve been set back this semester in school. Largely because I’ve been very sick the last few weeks, and a month before that. Missing time is bad, but professors can work with that. The minor point, or so I tell myself, is that I started off the semester poorly. I skipped homework, slacked on my reading, and really just wasn’t in the game. I guess being sick just compounded my other issues. Or maybe I just use that as an excuse to roll a mulligan, who knows.

The point of the matter is that I now have several months free of obligation. This is neat, in a way. I have plenty of time to read all the stuff I’ve been stacking on my shelves, both real and digital. And oh boy, how full they are. There’s a small shelf full of actual books to read and a list of just under 50 digital publications that demand my attention. Not all of the digital work will take long, but there’s a whole lot of short stories there so it’s a matter of quantity over length. Mostly.

I’ve been hanging out with my buddy and his girlfriend through the night. Less hanging out and more “stop watching Dana Carvey videos and do you damned school work so I can get my burrito.” This is all college work, for the record. I’m not a whipper snapper, but I’m a ways off from yelling at kids from my porch rocking chair. I still need a porch and a chair.

OH I get to make neat nicknames for people to protect their anonymity in my digital philandering! Freakin’ sweet. Or should I? Is it pandering to my inflated ego? I don’t know, but it SURE is fun so what the hell. To hell with all you boring people who don’t like fun names.

Wow, I just looked up “philandering” and I’ve been using it a little out of context for most of my life. Neat.

So, for the sake of anonymity, especially now that I’ve revealed myself to be ignorant of my native language (though less so than my two adopted tongues), I shall call this friend Atlas. His lady shall be…Cally. That’s a soft ‘c’ like cat, not a hard sound like “Sally.” I’d have just written Sally if that’s what I wanted, you silly people.

To the point at hand. I’ve been assisting in keeping them on task this evening, as we are all quite prone to procrastination for the simplest of tasks. Cally less so than the big man and I. She just likes to nap a lot. My mission is currently in danger of failure. The big man is in a dead sleep not two feet from me, surrounded by drool and cats. The lady is likely asleep and very angry at her alarm. I keep hearing it go off and then be silenced. There’s not really a peaceful way to respond to the sound of a submarine warning horn. She is likely also buried in felines.

It’s like Schrodinger’s kennel in here.

Atlas has risen! The land quakes in his presence and the wave function of felines collapses in his wake.

~ Rao, humble subject of the Sun Princess.


From → Regular Rounds

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