Dr. Chandler was someone with mud in his eyes, red mud.
Been a while, I rek'on.
Uh...reading week was okay. I got some work done the first half, went to moncton with Charlotte for wed/thurs. It was nice to get away. It was NOT nice that the bank put a 3 day freeze on $400 of me money, even though it was depositied in cash. (New policy maybe, never happened before with cash...) Also, Moncton may have lots of overpriced clothes and cheap dvd's, but it is not the cd mecca it used to be. I came home with only one cd, SYL's "The New Black" (as opposed to maybe 1/2 dozen I'd normally return with).
Of course when I got home I got a really nasty case of the ol' fluy-flu. I didn't get any school work done from friday 'til yesterday and I was bed ridden for saturday evening until monday evening. It was merciless. My fever got so high saturday evening/sunday morning that I was delirious. Ask poor Charlotte who had to talk to me on the phone...
The important thing(s) now are that: I'm feeling better and can function, at least. And two, I missed my first shift at work on sunday in the last 4.5 year. Real nice record I had going there...sickening eh? That makes my Tim Hortons record: 6 years/ 3 missed shifts. So an average of 1 every 2 years, that ain't not bad.
Well, I'm super-psyched about the new movie coming out entitled "300." Because I love Frank Miller and classics. Damn you Spartans!!! You ruined it for everyone.
A poem should be equal to: Not true. For all the history of grief An empty doorway and a maple leaf. For love The leaning grasses and two lights above the sea-- A poem should not mean But be.
-from "Ars Poetica" by Archibal MacLeish