2003-10-27 - 5:47 p.m.
I have just started the 5 weeks of assessment related major pain, it makes me long to be kidnapped away from the computer screen.
Yesterday I spent thirteen hours here and most of that was spent staring blankly, the rest was in making the pace of a snail look incredibly speedy.
So far I'm only a bit behind schedule, but I'm already bored out of my brain. I could write a paper for you on anything, be it an in-depth study on the work of a selected psychologist (psych) or an essay relating 3 movies to the concept of acting normal (soca), or on something like the philosophy of shoes.
Point being, I can do it, but they're all so meaningless in the beginning, middle and end. Although knowing me I would probably get off on doing the shoe essay slightly.
And then I get the marks back and I see what I've done wrong, or done right, and apathy kicks in to the nth degree. I should care, I want to care, but this does not equate to caring.
But I still do the work... well, eventually. And I go a little bit more crazy in the process. Lately this has taken the form of listening to Katie Q on repeat and crooning along over-emphatically with some chair-dancing thrown in.
Meanwhile, there need to be far less songs about pretty blonde women. Just once I want there to be a hit about an ugly woman that the singer adores. A girl whose favourite colour is lime green, who thinks that George Bush is kindof good-looking, and swears like a sailor, something along these lines.
In other news, I've decided I want to study at FBI in Glebe part-time next year, and am excited by the prospect. And if that doesn't happen, after I finish my degree I can go and work for ASIO, because their jobs look so freaking cool...
Only am hindered by the fact I would need to move to Canberra (oh yes, the nation's capital of excitement) and my parents are overly dependent on me, which is so bizarre.
I mean, I am on them too to an extent, but I could get over it. And that's the way it's meant to be, isn't it? But it isn't just that way, it flows in reverse. My mother wouldn't cope without me, and that's not just me being immodest.
She barely even copes with me. Let alone without. And I'm the daughter, I'm supposed to look after the old people, that's what the old people have daughters for. Not like bloody useless spoiled sons, only good for propagating the family name...
But yeah, I have this feeling that I'll never leave them. Marry someone comfortable who won't mind living close by. Pop out a few kids.
The stifling part of that little future scenario is not that it would make me want to go postal after a few years, (which probably would be a definite possibility) but the part of me that thinks I wouldn't mind it at all.
Stupid profound lack of ambition. Part 98 in the ongoing saga: will she get a life, or won't she.
Yesterday I spent thirteen hours here and most of that was spent staring blankly, the rest was in making the pace of a snail look incredibly speedy.
So far I'm only a bit behind schedule, but I'm already bored out of my brain. I could write a paper for you on anything, be it an in-depth study on the work of a selected psychologist (psych) or an essay relating 3 movies to the concept of acting normal (soca), or on something like the philosophy of shoes.
Point being, I can do it, but they're all so meaningless in the beginning, middle and end. Although knowing me I would probably get off on doing the shoe essay slightly.
And then I get the marks back and I see what I've done wrong, or done right, and apathy kicks in to the nth degree. I should care, I want to care, but this does not equate to caring.
But I still do the work... well, eventually. And I go a little bit more crazy in the process. Lately this has taken the form of listening to Katie Q on repeat and crooning along over-emphatically with some chair-dancing thrown in.
Meanwhile, there need to be far less songs about pretty blonde women. Just once I want there to be a hit about an ugly woman that the singer adores. A girl whose favourite colour is lime green, who thinks that George Bush is kindof good-looking, and swears like a sailor, something along these lines.
In other news, I've decided I want to study at FBI in Glebe part-time next year, and am excited by the prospect. And if that doesn't happen, after I finish my degree I can go and work for ASIO, because their jobs look so freaking cool...
Only am hindered by the fact I would need to move to Canberra (oh yes, the nation's capital of excitement) and my parents are overly dependent on me, which is so bizarre.
I mean, I am on them too to an extent, but I could get over it. And that's the way it's meant to be, isn't it? But it isn't just that way, it flows in reverse. My mother wouldn't cope without me, and that's not just me being immodest.
She barely even copes with me. Let alone without. And I'm the daughter, I'm supposed to look after the old people, that's what the old people have daughters for. Not like bloody useless spoiled sons, only good for propagating the family name...
But yeah, I have this feeling that I'll never leave them. Marry someone comfortable who won't mind living close by. Pop out a few kids.
The stifling part of that little future scenario is not that it would make me want to go postal after a few years, (which probably would be a definite possibility) but the part of me that thinks I wouldn't mind it at all.
Stupid profound lack of ambition. Part 98 in the ongoing saga: will she get a life, or won't she.
