can't be buggered at all
My mother has just emailed me reproachfully, saying, somewhat portentously, "You haven't blogged for nearly a week". Oh, dear, she's right, I really am apparently on strike. While the last few days have included lovely socialisings (Jim & Julie's wedding, which was wonderful, and a spa/Mount Nelson tea day on Wednesday in honour of schedule5 on Wednesday), in fact I am near-homicidally antisocial right now and very much inclined to stagnate in my study in a state of particularly prickly hedgehog, playing computer games and being cynical about the Royal Wedding. (In my role as a pervy long-skirt-fancier, I have to say her dress was pretty, but a bit arb. I actually preferred Julie's. However, the mass outbreak of fancy hats on these occasions makes me deeply happy).
Entertainment in my Prickly Hedgehog Hibernation continues to be provided by Dragon Age. I thought I was emerging from the glorious fog of narrative immersion, but the Evil Landlord wandered into my study yesterday, quietly placed the disks for Dragon Age II on my desk, gave me a meaningful look, and wandered out. I'm doomed.
The hibernation may well have been triggered by the weather as much as the 11-day break; we've had the first serious several-day bucketing-rain session of winter, and the heater is perpetually whirring in the direction of my feet. My car has signalled its displeasure with the seasonal damp by emitting an unpleasant whirring noise in default of actually starting, so Tuesday is going to be a bit complicated, what with going back to work and arranging car wossnames and starting my teaching and all. By the immutable workings of Sod's Law, the defunct car has naturally coincided with a sprained ankle (I apparently did something weird to it while bounding around on the dance floor at the wedding), so I shall be hobbling around a bit in pursuit of the necessary Point A to Point B perambulations. These things are sent to try us. I'm currently happily detached from it all to the point where I'm vaguely sure I'll make a plan. Thing. Wossname.
I'm going to bed now. Hedgehoggily.
Entertainment in my Prickly Hedgehog Hibernation continues to be provided by Dragon Age. I thought I was emerging from the glorious fog of narrative immersion, but the Evil Landlord wandered into my study yesterday, quietly placed the disks for Dragon Age II on my desk, gave me a meaningful look, and wandered out. I'm doomed.
The hibernation may well have been triggered by the weather as much as the 11-day break; we've had the first serious several-day bucketing-rain session of winter, and the heater is perpetually whirring in the direction of my feet. My car has signalled its displeasure with the seasonal damp by emitting an unpleasant whirring noise in default of actually starting, so Tuesday is going to be a bit complicated, what with going back to work and arranging car wossnames and starting my teaching and all. By the immutable workings of Sod's Law, the defunct car has naturally coincided with a sprained ankle (I apparently did something weird to it while bounding around on the dance floor at the wedding), so I shall be hobbling around a bit in pursuit of the necessary Point A to Point B perambulations. These things are sent to try us. I'm currently happily detached from it all to the point where I'm vaguely sure I'll make a plan. Thing. Wossname.
I'm going to bed now. Hedgehoggily.