I'm told it’s called 'structured procrastination.'
things I should have done.
180+ exams
of continuous writing. They should be half marked by now. Part of me
rebels, as the only reason I’m stuck with grades 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10 (instead
of just 6 and 7) is because my former colleague resigned a week before exams
started. Another part wishes I’d thought of that.
Update the
schools reporting schedules to reflect the syllabus/grading scale changes.
Excel, we will meet at 3am on Monday morning, at the rate I’m operating.
Drill and
secure the mounts for my library shelving. But, the library is perpetually swarming
with my students, so…
Apply for the job at the Center for Reproductive Rights in NYC, that I so desperately desire.
things I did instead:
Read
Shakespeare’s sonnets aloud on Project Gutenberg. Thank you, ‘random’ button.
Finished
UBIK. The digital copy I have ends with “42.” This makes me now want to read Hitchhikers,
again. Which reminds me, I was supposed to forward that along to a number of
people. Let’s add that to the 'should have done' file.
Laundered and
gifted away the bulk of my clothing. (Even the skivvies.) Now, at least, with
my wardrobe so reduced, I have a legitimate excuse for coming to work in jeans. Less guilt is nice. Also, my belongings are down to two bags again. So I’m
ready to move on and ship out.
Fully cleaned
my entire dwelling for the first time in a year. (Well… mostly.)
For the most
part, assembled Camp GLOW manuals.
things I should be looking forward to…
Camp GLOW in
eight days.
Getting my
hands on a Nikon D3100 in seven days...
My IUD
insertion in five days. (Huzzah, long term birth control.)
things I am actually looking forward to:
A package from my eldest sister, T—, containing Annie’s mac, plus two vital books as additions to my
village library.
Spending a
couple days with my buddy B—, in the PC flats in the capital before camp. We’re
resigned to living on apples and cheese. (Just wait until he finds out about
the mac).
Also, B—'s
girlfriend, E—. Another exciting prospect. (Can I keep her?) Also, if London (A—)
mistakes our outing for a date, I’m going to need the pair to tag along. He
ends his texts with “xx” … Is this something Londoners do, now?
A Da-mâi
Dance Ensemble performance at the Franco-Namibian Cultural Center in fifteen days. Yes!