As of now, I've been awake for thirty two hours. Yes, it is the beginning of the full moon (thank you for asking), and subsequently my skin feels as though it's been stretched across a pincushion. Every sensation is magnified a thousand times.
(Post entry addendum: Pincushions are usually soft. This was a stupid similie)
For the past eight weeks I've been labouring under an inexplicable sleeping sickness, which has left me completely unabable to do anything other than sleep three quarters of every day or swear at the obnoxious moon, and subsequently I've been living on the gratuities of the state. In Australia, the gratuities of the state are managed by apathetic, undertrained houswives who foolishly try to battle a computer system so circuitous in it's thinking it might actually be a textbook skitzophrenic. This causes problems.
Today, I had to go into the office to inform them that I was, in fact, still waiting on a patch for my sleep drivers when I was informed that my payments had been cancelled, as I had reached the end of my alloted period of study. "Alloted Period of Study," you say, quizzically? "But Jaquelin, you never mentioned any such thing."
No. I didn't. You see, more than a year ago I was receiving a stipend from said gargantuan beastie to offset my cost of living during my unhelpful graduate studies, which I was to complete before last weekend. For reasons that defy comprehension the system had decided that my medical benifit should end now that I was no longer suffering from an inflamation of the undergraduate degree, and steadfastly refused all efforts of the staff to renew my service.
The end result was that I spent five painfully long hours sitting in an uncomfortable chair waiting for an ever increasing regiment of supervisors to override the computer system so that I could enjoy some of life's greater pleasures, such as foodstuffs not comprised entirely of rice. For the first two hours I was not so fortunate as to know what this mysterious problem was, only that the computer had determined I was no longer fit to serve as a member of the human race. Five hours of this nightmare, without anything such as a book or even a notepad, left me in a predictable state with the normal associated crying and yelling and despair.
The journey back from the government offices takes two busses and more than half an hour on each leg, and due to my preposterous and unexpected delay I'd didn't get on the last bus untill eight.
The last bus was old; I'm reasonably certain it was of a comparable age to myself. I've aged far more gracefully, I feel. Because it was so old, and so very ricketty ricketty, it shook like a thirty year old washing machine.
My journey home comprised of a long journey atop a constantly vibrating washing machine. For half an hour. I don't think I could speak if I needed to; I can barely stand up. Not everything in the world is bad.
(Post entry addendum: Pincushions are usually soft. This was a stupid similie)
For the past eight weeks I've been labouring under an inexplicable sleeping sickness, which has left me completely unabable to do anything other than sleep three quarters of every day or swear at the obnoxious moon, and subsequently I've been living on the gratuities of the state. In Australia, the gratuities of the state are managed by apathetic, undertrained houswives who foolishly try to battle a computer system so circuitous in it's thinking it might actually be a textbook skitzophrenic. This causes problems.
Today, I had to go into the office to inform them that I was, in fact, still waiting on a patch for my sleep drivers when I was informed that my payments had been cancelled, as I had reached the end of my alloted period of study. "Alloted Period of Study," you say, quizzically? "But Jaquelin, you never mentioned any such thing."
No. I didn't. You see, more than a year ago I was receiving a stipend from said gargantuan beastie to offset my cost of living during my unhelpful graduate studies, which I was to complete before last weekend. For reasons that defy comprehension the system had decided that my medical benifit should end now that I was no longer suffering from an inflamation of the undergraduate degree, and steadfastly refused all efforts of the staff to renew my service.
The end result was that I spent five painfully long hours sitting in an uncomfortable chair waiting for an ever increasing regiment of supervisors to override the computer system so that I could enjoy some of life's greater pleasures, such as foodstuffs not comprised entirely of rice. For the first two hours I was not so fortunate as to know what this mysterious problem was, only that the computer had determined I was no longer fit to serve as a member of the human race. Five hours of this nightmare, without anything such as a book or even a notepad, left me in a predictable state with the normal associated crying and yelling and despair.
The journey back from the government offices takes two busses and more than half an hour on each leg, and due to my preposterous and unexpected delay I'd didn't get on the last bus untill eight.
The last bus was old; I'm reasonably certain it was of a comparable age to myself. I've aged far more gracefully, I feel. Because it was so old, and so very ricketty ricketty, it shook like a thirty year old washing machine.
My journey home comprised of a long journey atop a constantly vibrating washing machine. For half an hour. I don't think I could speak if I needed to; I can barely stand up. Not everything in the world is bad.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
huck:
"do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law" 
hopey:
Next summer. We would love to have you.