Monday, January 24, 2005

In which the author again feels like shit on a Monday morning

Okay so actually it is now Monday afternoon, but I'm sure if I was awake for more than half an hour of the morning I would have been feeling just as shit then. In fact I'm feeling so bad that I'm currently sat at my desk wearing two jumpers and a scarf. I wouldn't be in work at all if I didn't have to prepare a short (30 minutes) talk for tomorrow's astro-particle/cosmology group meeting. We are currently up to two slides, so there is a fairly long way to go. I should probably be writing that and not this, but procrastination is such fun.

Amazingly enough the reason that I'm feeling so bad today, is entirely unrelated to last night's activities. It is instead because I have what could be described as 'man flu'. That is I feel somewhat unwell but feel this entitles me to moan, groan and lay about the house feeling sorry for myself. In fact I was tucked up in bed by about half past midnight, and still I couldn't struggle out of bed until gone eleven this morning. It is a sorry state to be in indeed.

On the subject of sorry states to be in, damn you Philadelphia Eagles. My poor little Falcons were outplayed, and possibly outclassed, yesterday, and I was denied the $120-odd dollars I would have won for Atlanta getting to the Superbowl. Bugger! In the other game, I really wanted the Steelers to win, but they got their arses handed to them as well. Bollocks! At least United managed to beat Villa on Saturday, winning me the princely sum of £3.12, so it wasn't a complete sporting disaster weekend for me.

In other news, I somehow ended up at High Five's goth/industrial night for a while on Saturday night. And it was certainly very interesting. It was somewhat disorienting to be sat at a table with a guy in a cardigan, a girl in a fluffy jumper and a bobble hat, while everyone else in the bar was all gothed-up. It pretty much felt like a night at the carnival, although whether we were the exhibits or audience I wouldn't like to say. I spent much of the evening mesmerised by an orange and brown painting on the wall. At first glance the picture just looked like an orange sunset over a brown landscape, but after looking at it a couple of times (it's rude to stare at the people, but the paintings don't mind) I noticed there was a figure at the front of the landscape. So from then on I kept on trying to look at the picture and not see the figure, which I managed a couple of times. I imagine it is more indicative of my state of intoxication than the quality of the artwork, that it could transfix me for so long. But I'd like to go back and have a look at it sober, to see what I think.

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