Numerous things conspired to continue my distraction today.
J.R. dropped in. It is a little strange to have a recreational conversation with someone so much older than me with whom I have no 'professional' relationship. Nice though. Discussed the current disrupted architecture of the college, which is of course another interesting context of my CEP: working through the new systems and architectures. And what is the library, in which I spend most of my time, other than an architecture? Don't answer that.
Tilly also arrived, presented her zines (which, of course, have inspired me to do some creative writing), crushed on J.R. a bit, and then distracted me some more by taking me for what can only be described as a drink/banana (her the drink, I the banana), and then pushed me over in Tremough shop. No one paid any attention. Dead inside, I swear.
I decided to try out mild bombay mix, and I am becoming surer and surer that too much juice (or possibly bananas?) is bad for me. I really badly want some tofu, and was planning a trek to ASDA for it this eve, but now it is raining and so I can't. Sigh.
I finished reading About Men, and am typing up quotations from it now.
Anyway, the big event of the day involved quite a bit of emotional trauma for pretty absurd reasons. I won't go into it, but it was quite a derailment. Like we were living in entirely different worlds, unable to communicate with eachother (suddenly each word in our shared language had different meanings and different significances). Needless to say, emotional instability, another context.
What's arising is that my work is essentially a struggle against everything else. It is in harmony with nothing, and it is sheer force of will that makes it happen. My force of will is soon to be tested as the proposal is in on Thursday. Hard work begins, apparently. More in that later.
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