make no mistakes, I am what you make me

Seeing as how my room is a shambles, there are dishes to do, laundry to put away and study to do (yeah, I’m back at Uni again as well as working, glutton for punishment I guess), I decided that now was clearly the most opportune time to write a blog.

Life is rocking along on the regular. My work is still in the middle of re-org murkiness, but I’ve been assured that I’ll come out the other side with something at least vaguely resembling employment, so I can safely go on eating complete meals instead of resorting to pinching pennies and eating noodles out of a hat (which reminds me that I should get my sombrero out of the car).

I’ve managed to resist the urge to buy any more books or films lately, seeing as I now have three fat Psychology textbooks to plough my way through by November, not to mention the unit materials and other readings, but as the Dread Pirate Roberts would say, ‘Life is pain, anyone who says differently is selling something’. Which again reminds me of something, this time that I managed to do myself some ligament damage in my right hand after what looked like an uneventful stack on a pair of rollerskates. On the bright side, nothing was broken. I’m quite over breaking bones, the “Look how tuff I am, I hurt mah-self” novelty wore off long, long ago.

To be honest, I think that a lot of the reading and writing that I’ve been doing for Uni has had a bit of an effect on my recreational pondering and writing libido, which is a bit of a shame, but I’m quite confident that it hasn’t gone anywhere, it’s just hard to hear over the top of all of the other noise at the moment.

And having now worked up sufficient resolve, I should actually plod off and do some of the things that are mounting up around me.

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