"Stephen Hawking both British and not dead."
I believe this is the part where my now-standard apology goes, 'cause I haven't been writing much and all, but honestly, how much do you really want to hear about how I'm
still not done with my thesis and I kind of hate it a lot? I'll be finished REALLY soon, but then, that's what I've been saying for weeks. Since I still need to find a job and being socially AWOL is starting to get to me and I just picked up some gorgeous yarn that's begging to become a sweater, I have GOT to finish the Never-Ending Thesis because if I don't move on with my life in the next few days, I'm pretty sure a slit wrist or two will be in order. Also, I don't know if I have the self-control to leave the yarn untouched for very long. Really, though, when the highlights of my week include, oh, happening upon
these lamps while at a grocery store with Sara (check out our
drug package from Morocco), it's pretty obvious that a different daily focus is in order.
Oh! Another recent highlight: so I went to my doctor on Monday, and among other things, we talked about the Crazy Pills I've been on for the last year. I don't feel like they're working terribly well, so I'd decided I wanted to go off 'em and then use exercise as my medication. He practically lit up when I told him that, thought it was a great idea, etc. I'm guessing he doesn't hear that too often. Anyway, so the process of going off the Crazy Pills? Kinda makes me feel like I'm detoxing in a
Trainspotting sort of way. Haven't yet seen a baby crawling on the ceiling, but the physically out-of-it part? That's there in full-force. Not loving how it feels, but I'm looking forward to dropping the weight the Crazy Pills packed on me over the last year.
So... anyone want to find me a job? Or finish my thesis?
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