I feel so terribly thrown off. It's past four in the morning, but because I collapsed into a nap right before dinner, I'm still awake, and until recently working on differential equations. My head kind of hurts now. The last equation was from hell (mostly because I divided by 2 somewhere and that made everything much harder--fun).
I also made the mistake of entering a poker tournament earlier tonight, which chewed up a couple of hours and a few dollars. My room is getting ever messier as I put things wherever the hell I feel like putting them and then forget to move them to where they belong. Books, chocolates, peanuts, pizza, cereal, a television, boxes, groceries, assorted crap. It would take about five minutes to arrange everything so it was all pretty, but instead of doing that of my own accord and make it easier for me to live and move around I will wait until someone has cause to enter my room at which point I will hastily try to do five minutes' worth of work about two minutes before they arrive. It's a good arrangement. Similar arrangements have gotten me through life so far, right?
According to The Economist's Style Guide, the word "gotten" is used much more frequently in America and thus should be mostly avoided in favor of "got" in the eponymous British newspaper. Just thought you should know.
I also get really excited when I get to use words like "eponymous". Makes me feel esoteric. And awesome.
I wish Danielle were here so she could use her magical powers of comfort to make me instantly fall asleep at this critical juncture when sleep provides me with more utility than blogging. However, I seem to be stuck in a bad equilibrium perpetuated by the fact that my ass does not want to leave this chair. Nor do I want to brush my teeth or doing anything else vaguely related to taking care of myself, since taking care of oneself is one of the most well-known of the slippery slopes. You start brushing your teeth, next thing you know you're trimming your finger nails, eating non-pizza food, washing your face every day despite the now-less-than-lukewarm water, going back to bed when someone is apparently hogging the TV room at 9AM to watch Star Wars, and picking all that shit up off the floor. No thanks. I'd rather stay here and get tired until I have no choice but to trip and stumble into bed.
At least my finger nails are trimmed. For now. Peace out, chiquitos. Pet a goat if you see one. Hasta la byebye.
I also made the mistake of entering a poker tournament earlier tonight, which chewed up a couple of hours and a few dollars. My room is getting ever messier as I put things wherever the hell I feel like putting them and then forget to move them to where they belong. Books, chocolates, peanuts, pizza, cereal, a television, boxes, groceries, assorted crap. It would take about five minutes to arrange everything so it was all pretty, but instead of doing that of my own accord and make it easier for me to live and move around I will wait until someone has cause to enter my room at which point I will hastily try to do five minutes' worth of work about two minutes before they arrive. It's a good arrangement. Similar arrangements have gotten me through life so far, right?
According to The Economist's Style Guide, the word "gotten" is used much more frequently in America and thus should be mostly avoided in favor of "got" in the eponymous British newspaper. Just thought you should know.
I also get really excited when I get to use words like "eponymous". Makes me feel esoteric. And awesome.
I wish Danielle were here so she could use her magical powers of comfort to make me instantly fall asleep at this critical juncture when sleep provides me with more utility than blogging. However, I seem to be stuck in a bad equilibrium perpetuated by the fact that my ass does not want to leave this chair. Nor do I want to brush my teeth or doing anything else vaguely related to taking care of myself, since taking care of oneself is one of the most well-known of the slippery slopes. You start brushing your teeth, next thing you know you're trimming your finger nails, eating non-pizza food, washing your face every day despite the now-less-than-lukewarm water, going back to bed when someone is apparently hogging the TV room at 9AM to watch Star Wars, and picking all that shit up off the floor. No thanks. I'd rather stay here and get tired until I have no choice but to trip and stumble into bed.
At least my finger nails are trimmed. For now. Peace out, chiquitos. Pet a goat if you see one. Hasta la byebye.
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