November 27-29, 2000 — One night doesn't mean...

So anyways. I've far too much work to do and I'm working myself until I can't go anymore and need to take a nap. Very entertaining, and no doubt very unhealthy.

Actually, it's not as entertaining as that.

Basically, I've two exams and a bunch of projects due next week, I want (need) to finish the Bran Van 3000 site this week, and I'm still trying to find time to get this site finished up. That one week over Christmas when I'm trapped at home again will hopefully be a good week for antigreg. I want a decent bulletin board, a solid system for posting journals and features, and then I can just sit back and not worry about coding anything anymore. And wouldn't life be grand?

In the meantime, it was a pretty depressing couple of days. I hadn't heard from Gillian since Monday morning (and it was early enough on Monday morning that it was a very incoherent conversation given my lack of sleep) and school was as bothersome as ever. With four main things that I ought to be spending my time on in life (school; antigreg, as something of a hobby; work; and people), it seems I'm stuck not spending nearly enough time on any of them. Not enough that I really think I'm doing the best I could in any one category, anyways. And it's a horrible feeling.

Still no idea what I'm doing next year, either. Other than complaining, of course.

I took an online personality test that equated my being solitary as meaning that I'd like to work in a cubicle. Some of what it had said was vaguely right until that point. Cubicles make me physically ill.

The only thing I've enjoyed doing this week is playing South Park pinball. It's like heroin. I spent three dollars on it on my birthday and I've been hooked since. Let this be a lesson for all of you: sure, it may seem like a good idea to try an addictive substance on your birthday, thinking you'll be able to return to normal life the next day. But next thing you know, you're spending your laundry money to shoot a metal sphere at Kenny. Fuck, I'm lame.

If Gillian hadn't called from some faraway country this evening, my having won two free games of pinball would have been the highlight of my day. But luckily.

I feel bad since it was no doubt a very expensive conversation. I'm looking forward to her being back in Canada, a mere twenty-six hours away by train. The phone bills will be less painful, too.

No updates on the status of my 1" antigreg pins. But I'm sure with Andy from D.B.S. on the job, nothing can possible go wrong. Right?

So to review: I'm completely burnt out, I'm sick, my arms hurt, and I want to go to sleep. But I still have to finish scanning and taking pictures of things for the Bran Van 3000 site. Gosh darnit. I think I'm going to have to put it off until tomorrow, as I'm not going to be able to last much longer in front of this pitiful CRT that I'm stuck living through.