Bags of Pants

Right! I have just finished a big wardrobe clean out. You should have seen mum's face - she was loving it. Lined up by my bed I have 5, count them, FIVE bags of various items of clothing I am donating to the Salvo's. Beside my desk I have one (just the one) bag of clothes I think might go well with someone I know, so will be donated directly, skipping Savers: damn the middle-man. 

What sparked this flurry of activity, you might ask? Aside, of course, from the obvious. Well, this morning I needed a black singlet. I dug and dug through the draw I knew it was in, but could I find it? Well, yes, actually, I did find it eventually, but it took ages. Ages, I say. Anyway, this less than unique occurrence highlighted the necessity of a draw clean out. In some ways, despite the massive pile of clothes I am disposing of, I feel like I have gained some new items. For example, a white top, which looks great. I have no idea where it came from, but there it was, inside one of my old jackets (where else?). Also, I had about a dozen pairs of jeans I had forgotten about. Trying those on was fun - like playing The Biggest Loser or something and seeing the gradual change. Some of those pants were huge.

Anyway, when I was done, mum warned me not to let dad see them - he is more of a hoarder than I am, and would go through them and rediscover usefulness in old cardies or something. Hence their new home, in plastic bags by my bed. 

Yay or Nay? A study on the benefits of Thesisising

The tragedy of thesisising is ... 

All food is appetizing, every DVD is irresistible, trashy novels must be read now. 

However ...

Amazingly, thesisising allows for certain breakthroughs that may otherwise not be possible. Specifically, breakthroughs in fields pertaining to and directly involved with procrastination and related practices. These include, but are not limited to:

The locating of long lost items during intensive cleaning sessions, the revival of relationships with people who have been (and perhaps should continue to be) below my social radar, sustenance of valued personal relationships, discovery of previously unexplored venues, both of the coffee and beer variety, and the development of creative spending. 

The result? Poor, drunk, over-caffinated student with collection of childhood toys and no thesis. 

The best laid plans...

I met with Hannah yesterday, which, as always, was great. She is helping me get back on board with my thesis, working through the things that are stopping me from being where I want to be. I decided on a weekly target of writing, entirely within the realms of possibility. However, it involved a dedicated approach today (but not tonight) and tomorrow, Tuesday and Wednesday. Intentions, I am quickly discovering, are worth nothing. Due to a series of unfortunate events,* I left the house late last night, and returned only in this last hour. I am lacking in sleep and my regular teeth-brushing practices have been disturbed. Further, though I will be leaving the house much earlier tonight, I will, once again be away until later tomorrow. So, that leaves me with Tuesday and Wednesday to cram in what I was expecting to do in four days. Can someone please clarify - what is the point of trying?

*Regards to Mr Snicket.

Thesis Fairy vs. Dr Phil

Today has, thus far, been a success. It started early. Though I was unaware of her true identity at the time of meeting, I had breakfast with my Thesis Fairy. I had been hoping for such a meeting for some time. Or perhaps I was using this desire as an excuse to further postpone actually writing my thesis. In any case, I did meet her. This morning, as I said, over breakfast. I didn't recognize her at first - she appeared to be a good friend of mine that had been waffling about outside of my scope these last weeks. We drank coffee and spoke of such thing as metaphysics and the environment and the benefits of meditation. It was an unexpectedly intellectual breakfast. I arrived home stimulated, unusually so, particularly for so early in the day, when I am usual catatonic. I sat in the sun shine and brought Ms Judith Butler along for the ride. We got along fine, for a change. In fact, I tackled her in record time. When I was done, I sat myself in front of this wee Mac and spewed forth my understandings and such. Later, I had some lunch, and tried the 'Walking Meditation,' taking a leisurely stroll around the block. Upon my return, though sorely tempted by such things as Dr Phil and the Ridiculous Americans and Eaves Dropping on the Neighbors, I returned instead to my new friend, Judith. I wrote and wrote, with regular sunshine breaks, of course, and when I stopped, conclusion written, I did a word count, and would you believe, I had written 3000 words! Now, much later, I am sitting on my Thesis Fairy's couch. We are going to, in short order, begin studying together. Julia, my Thesis Fairy, I love you!

Quote of the Day: "I'm going to start reading ... Yes! My De-Col-I-Nis-Ation Book!"

Magically Taboo

I am so over being sick! And doctors suck. Raa. I waited for 40 min at the La Trobe Medical Center today to see a doctor I had made an appointment to see. I went in and she was like "how are you today?" and I said "I have tonsillitis, I would like a script for Amoxycillin please." And she just gave it to me. No checking or anything. What is the point of that? It is so frustrating, having to wait for a doctor so you can spend 30 seconds waiting for a script to print. 

Deep breaths. Right, now I have that out of my system...

I guess I don't have much else to say. I was running a fever at work and it all went by in a bit of a blur. The 'T' word has become taboo (not literally, obviously, that would be odd), again. I can't even think about it without getting nauseous, and when I try to work on it I freeze up. But I have the next couple of days off, so hopefully it will magically write itself during that time. In the mean time, I need to figure out what (and if ...) I am going to read at the Gallery Readings on thursday. 

Post-Rapture Pets

For all those concerned about what will happen to their pets in case of The Rapture, just refer to  these guys. They will alleviate any concerns. 

Dream Bazar

With the frequent and increasingly bizarre dreams my mind has been pumping out recently, I could open a Dream Bazar. And it is not just how bizarre they are, either. They are so real. Sometimes it takes me a day or two, or someone saying something related, that allows me to realise that the memory of the dream is a memory of a dream, not an actual memory. It started off simple. I dreamt that my local Safeway had closed its doors. It took two days, and a visit to said Safeway, for me to realise that I had dreamt this and that Safeway was, in fact, business as usual. However, the dreams have become increasingly bizarre. A few nights ago I dreamt that, while stopped at a set of traffic lights, a hover-car drove past. I was interested, in the dream, and distinctly remember thinking 'I didn't realise they had been released yet. I should tell dad, that's cool.' I fully intended to tell dad, too, just as soon as I saw him. Fortunately, I saw Alex first, who inadvertently revealed the false-ness of this memory. So, dear reader, stay tuned; who knows what tonight's adventures will be?