Sickness is the enemy of Urbanitas

Have been reading my nasty essay sources, and therefore catch myself thinking in Communist Slogans (cf. title). 'Happiness is impossible without work' was Engels or someone, I think. And so you have 'Work is impossible without tea'.

V. much feel for Arthur Dent, trapped in space and unable to get tea. Poor, poor man. How is anyone supposed to cope without tea? Especially in his situation. They didn't even have Coke to fall back on.

Also, it turns out, Internet Access is the Enemy of Getting On With Your Essay. Not much I can do about that, though, really, I need to work on my laptop, and it automatically links itself to any nearby network. This is brought to you, ladies and gentelmen, courtesy of the buccaneered internet of our next-door neighbours. I wouldn't go asfar as to call it 'pirated,' though. It happens automatically.

At least this way I have access to that bastion if the history-source reader, http://dictionary.reference.com . Now I, too, can remind myself what prosopographic means, and confirm the spelling of impossible words. I always have difficulty with "bureaucracy", for instance. I have this odd urge to put the e's and a's (sorry about apostrohpising by plurals there... there isn't much t be done about it, though) before the r. Sort of 'Beaurocracy'-like. I rarely get it wrong, but I have to think about it every time I write it. You don't think about the spelling of words, usually do you? It just comes out, because you know the shape of it.

See what I mean? I'm just blathering. Internet really is the enemy of work. Also, none of this is very good, hence 'sickness is the enemy of urbanitas". I do like the latin form of that word better. 'Urbanitas' sounds it, is onomatopoeic in a way (see, and I had no trouble with 'onomatopoeic'. Although I inexplicably spelt "with "eith" just then. Oh, w and e are next to each other. Ignore me, then), whereas urbane-ness or whatever is all wrong. Ditto Auctoritas, and, to a lesser extent, Veritas.

It's hard to be smoothly witty when your head and ears and throat and nose are all non-functional. Not that I'm claiming to be smotthly witty anyway, you understand, but that it's completely impossible with a nasty head cold. Also I bit my tongue really hard yesterday morning, and it still hurts. *whinges*

Feel that it is unjust to get sick the day before a major essay is due. Because all you want to do is get some rest and recuperate, but you can't, because you have a shitload of work to do. And you can't go "I'm sick, stuff it" because you should have done it weeks ago. If you were a good, efficient, dedicated student, you could be resting. Its only 11:30am. You could be still asleep. Jeah. Except, of course, you wouldn't be, because good and dedicated student who do all their assignments as soon as they get them are the sorts of wankers who get up at 7am on a Sunday morning so as to "get the most out of the day". Probably do something "brisk" like jog around the bay, or something.

Conversely, wouldn't such a person be doing the essays that they were assigned recently? or studying or something? Perhaps there is no possible universe in which I could be asleep right now? Oooh... deep.

It seems strange to me that my essay sources can be both fascinating and boring at the same time, that I can feel like I'm working and procrastinating at the same time. Although I suspect that actually I'm procrastinating awfully. Feel the power of the female to multitask. If you aren't doing at least three things at any given time, then really, what's the point?

Gaaahh.....

In other news, I've calculated that a trip to Jenolan Caves from here, especially if we had to go via, oh, say, Central station, Longeville, and the M2, and back, via, for instance Lilyfield/Longeville/Lilyfield again, would be more than 500 km, and consume more than 50L of petrol. Good grief. Good thing that I'm writing my essay today, not driving there. Although I do imagine it would be an absolutely great day.

And now, to the essay. Holy Long Boring Articles, Batman!
Blasted Feminist writers.