Wednesday, March 22, 2006
I think I'm forming a tolerance to the drugs because I've started having flashback fantasies of being a spy. Jesus Christ, what is it about being a spy? F-ing craziness! Note to self: must speak to doctor. The other day I had to double-check that Rose was not a spy. This guy that I met on Friday told me that in a university in England there's an MI5 agent in every 'terrorism' tutorial. Rose is officially not a spy because she didn't try to recruit me. Only coz I'm crazy! Damn! That's discrimination! If I ever find out that Rose really is a secret agent, I am going to be so angry.
Change of subject...
Last night I went to film society event Randwick. It was dinner followed by a movie. I thought there'd be heaps of people but at first it was just me and three other people so I thought oh...intimate. I fully thought the Cute President was about 26 or something but turns out he's a couple of months older than me. Yet look how successful he's been in becoming President of the society! So after I found out he was my age it kind of changed the way I looked at him. Before this, though, he told us he broke up with his girlfriend. I was trying not to smile to widely. So anyway I had beef vindaloo and we saw Matchpoint which is a Woody Allen movie. It was alright... nothing special. The main guy was pretty good in it though, and quite handsome.
I learnt how to do the checkouts this morning. I had a four-hour shift in which I watched and packed plastic bags and observed consumer trends: Grannys buy biscuits, and lots of them, and get their groceries delivered. One person was on a total health kick, you could tell, and one woman did a $550 shop. It was never ending man, her trolley was fucking full. Young men buy heaps of meat. Mothers buy school snacks.
I skipped my pointless computers lecture and cooked for myself bacon and eggs after work. All I've got now is two maths lectures. fuck man, I tense up just at the thought of it.
Eren, the film society guy, has a friend who has recently been told she has about four years to live before a virus eating away at her heart kills her. Last night I had the strangest dream that I was a ghost watching over my sister and my mother, and my sister (Mel) could communicate with me, and so I asked her to tell Mum not to be sad that I was dead, but she didn't. Death always signifies change - I'm quitting smoking. I've gone pretty well so far, had two yesterday and haven't bought another pack. Craved it and craved it all last night after dinner and after the movie and before I went to bed and when I got home from work today, and just said No. And I told my brain, No Means No! I don't think it's the addiciton but more the habit of having a smoke just for something to do that is hardest to get rid of - it's a serious change in state of mind. I figure after more and more time, I will forget about smoking. I think it's forgetting about it which is the hardest. Maybe that's why you go through a 'grieving' process. Anyway in this dream I was on the top bunk of a bunk bed, and when I lent over the side, the ground was miles and miles below and I felt the way you feel when you lean over a high balcony and experience a fear of heights. It was scary. So I had to sit upright to prevent myself from tipping over the side. ¶ 15:06
Change of subject...
Last night I went to film society event Randwick. It was dinner followed by a movie. I thought there'd be heaps of people but at first it was just me and three other people so I thought oh...intimate. I fully thought the Cute President was about 26 or something but turns out he's a couple of months older than me. Yet look how successful he's been in becoming President of the society! So after I found out he was my age it kind of changed the way I looked at him. Before this, though, he told us he broke up with his girlfriend. I was trying not to smile to widely. So anyway I had beef vindaloo and we saw Matchpoint which is a Woody Allen movie. It was alright... nothing special. The main guy was pretty good in it though, and quite handsome.
I learnt how to do the checkouts this morning. I had a four-hour shift in which I watched and packed plastic bags and observed consumer trends: Grannys buy biscuits, and lots of them, and get their groceries delivered. One person was on a total health kick, you could tell, and one woman did a $550 shop. It was never ending man, her trolley was fucking full. Young men buy heaps of meat. Mothers buy school snacks.
I skipped my pointless computers lecture and cooked for myself bacon and eggs after work. All I've got now is two maths lectures. fuck man, I tense up just at the thought of it.
Eren, the film society guy, has a friend who has recently been told she has about four years to live before a virus eating away at her heart kills her. Last night I had the strangest dream that I was a ghost watching over my sister and my mother, and my sister (Mel) could communicate with me, and so I asked her to tell Mum not to be sad that I was dead, but she didn't. Death always signifies change - I'm quitting smoking. I've gone pretty well so far, had two yesterday and haven't bought another pack. Craved it and craved it all last night after dinner and after the movie and before I went to bed and when I got home from work today, and just said No. And I told my brain, No Means No! I don't think it's the addiciton but more the habit of having a smoke just for something to do that is hardest to get rid of - it's a serious change in state of mind. I figure after more and more time, I will forget about smoking. I think it's forgetting about it which is the hardest. Maybe that's why you go through a 'grieving' process. Anyway in this dream I was on the top bunk of a bunk bed, and when I lent over the side, the ground was miles and miles below and I felt the way you feel when you lean over a high balcony and experience a fear of heights. It was scary. So I had to sit upright to prevent myself from tipping over the side. ¶ 15:06
