For though abundantly they lack discretion, yet they are passing cowardly.
Works still plugging away. Nothing new, really, except the lack of time I have left has increased my appreciation of it so much that I am even fairly contented ripping out seams. I'm starting to understand how people can manage full time jobs. After all, even if a job is boring, monotonous, occasionally annoying, sometimes exasperating, takes most of your time and pays poorly, it still retains the advantages of being consistent, predictable, comfortable, and practical. Simply apply the 'rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of' principle and it makes perfect sense. Also, one settles into little routines that become pleasant, like getting up at a certain time and having tea/coffee, reading, having breakfast, or whatever order things go in. It's an order, and there is something pleasant about that.
I still wouldn't want a regular, steady job for most of my life. *slight shudder*
I'm a bit Mark Twain-ed out at the moment. I am almost finished with A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court which was good, until at some point I reach a definite Mark Twain overload. Although his observations on human nature often hit near the mark, they twist it and cheapen it in a way, I feel. He seems fond of having his characters muse 'it just made one feel ashamed of the whole human race', which, while quite like I feel when watching TV, gets a little old. The trouble is that he doesn't show enough of the other side of human nature, the depth of love, friendship, conscience, desire for justice and beauty and honor. I feel like Dostoevsky was able to portray just the same realism but without cheapening human nature for it. Still, I like Mark Twain, just in smaller doses.
So I went to a Border's and bought the Peaver/Volokhonsky translation of The Brothers Karamazov to read next.
And to further thwart my budget I got one of my coworkers an eighteen dollar assortment of Lake Champlain chocolates. (Well, she's not just any coworker, I'm worked with her the most while I've been here and she's taught me a lot.)
Oh, and since I don't like doing things by halves, I spent another eight dollars on card, gift back, and wrapping tissue.
I've been all Shakespeare-saturated the last couple days, because I watched the Ian McKellen/Judi Dench Macbeth last weekend, and now I have various rhyming couplets stuck in my head. They circulate in the most odd fashion, because once some start, other plays work there way in, so it seems like all the little lines from all the different plays come crashing into my brain all at once, and won't get out. But it's always the rhyming couplets that get to me, because they're often so random, and in the case of Macbeth sometimes a bit morbid.
Away, and mock the time with fairest show; false face must hide what the false heart doth know.
Come what come may; time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
I think you see what I mean.
I still wouldn't want a regular, steady job for most of my life. *slight shudder*
I'm a bit Mark Twain-ed out at the moment. I am almost finished with A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court which was good, until at some point I reach a definite Mark Twain overload. Although his observations on human nature often hit near the mark, they twist it and cheapen it in a way, I feel. He seems fond of having his characters muse 'it just made one feel ashamed of the whole human race', which, while quite like I feel when watching TV, gets a little old. The trouble is that he doesn't show enough of the other side of human nature, the depth of love, friendship, conscience, desire for justice and beauty and honor. I feel like Dostoevsky was able to portray just the same realism but without cheapening human nature for it. Still, I like Mark Twain, just in smaller doses.
So I went to a Border's and bought the Peaver/Volokhonsky translation of The Brothers Karamazov to read next.
And to further thwart my budget I got one of my coworkers an eighteen dollar assortment of Lake Champlain chocolates. (Well, she's not just any coworker, I'm worked with her the most while I've been here and she's taught me a lot.)
Oh, and since I don't like doing things by halves, I spent another eight dollars on card, gift back, and wrapping tissue.
I've been all Shakespeare-saturated the last couple days, because I watched the Ian McKellen/Judi Dench Macbeth last weekend, and now I have various rhyming couplets stuck in my head. They circulate in the most odd fashion, because once some start, other plays work there way in, so it seems like all the little lines from all the different plays come crashing into my brain all at once, and won't get out. But it's always the rhyming couplets that get to me, because they're often so random, and in the case of Macbeth sometimes a bit morbid.
Away, and mock the time with fairest show; false face must hide what the false heart doth know.
Come what come may; time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
I think you see what I mean.