Ode to the week
Man, this has been a crappy week. I can't shake this cold, my ovaries decided to rebel against their current habitat and wage war on me, job hunting is just depressing, my mother returned and declared that every aspect of my life is inadequate and oh yeah, both my grandparents are dead so their estate has to be split between three siblings who can't stand each other any more. My timetable this semester is completely inflexible. Although I have two days off, they're at opposite ends of the week and the rest is jam-packed with classes that I can't afford to miss so half the positions out there I am unable to apply for since I can't do the hours. Plus I'm completely apathetic about EVERYTHING. Maybe it's a post-Harry Potter ending slump combined with grief and general return-to-real-world-including-uni-after-overseas-holiday gloominess, but I'm starting to wonder whether it's not a symptom of something more sinister. Because I'm not just being overly descriptive, I'm pretty sure my ovaries really ARE trying to kill me. I have a doctor's appointment next week; hopefully answers will be forthcoming. Of course, he's going to try to force me to have those HPV vaccines...
The other important lesson I learned this week was to be careful when taking your parents to see a Judd Apatow movie. I thought I was taking my 'fun-loving, still young enough for pop cultural references to be relevant' parents to see 'Knocked Up', but it turns out I'd left the house with 'middle-aged fuddy duddies who can't handle a movie in which the word "fuck" is exclaimed more than three times (without an exploding car/building/city as context) and for whom the premise being based on an occasion of drunken casual sex is morally iffy'. Also my mother wouldn't let us buy choc tops.
The other important lesson I learned this week was to be careful when taking your parents to see a Judd Apatow movie. I thought I was taking my 'fun-loving, still young enough for pop cultural references to be relevant' parents to see 'Knocked Up', but it turns out I'd left the house with 'middle-aged fuddy duddies who can't handle a movie in which the word "fuck" is exclaimed more than three times (without an exploding car/building/city as context) and for whom the premise being based on an occasion of drunken casual sex is morally iffy'. Also my mother wouldn't let us buy choc tops.