While finals still loom, the big crunch of my first semester is over. Multiple papers and tests coagulating on the academic calendar nearly gave me an aneurysm. I believe that one’s living space reflects a great deal about one’s personality, and even more so on a short term basis. Of late, my room has looked like a transfer station for municipal garbage collection. This would be greatly mitigated if I lessened my consumption of beer. I think that’s such a selfish positive, though. Despite the physical and mental costs of the functional-alcoholism I live with, bereft of beer bottles I’d have nearly nothing to recycle. Indeed, the more I drink, the more I’m doing my part to save the environment.
While I’ve lately entertained the embittering thought that, at 35 I’ve slept alone vastly more nights than I haven’t, I console my self with the thought (beer in hand) that I certainly don’t let the space on my bed go to waste. While the partner side of the bed (interesting that I still sleep on the same side of the bed as I did in my last relationship five years ago) is always home to some papers, notes, and a few books, of late it has swelled to include nearly every text I’m studying, covered like a smothered steak with the precious few clean clothes I’ve enjoyed the last two weeks. While still sleeping alone technically, a pile of knowledge that can’t dress itself at least feels like I’m sleeping with a clone of myself.
I have four internet classes this coming semester, which frees me up tremendously for more hours at work. What a delightful tragedy that I live in a summer resort area. I shudder to think how much my recycling will suffer.
Ah well, there’s hope on the financial horizon for fall semester next year. All my paperwork will be in order for application to every single possible scholarship, grant and award that I even remotely qualify for. One of note is an essay contest for Ayn Rand’s works. I had originally thought I’d be reading anthem, her mercifully brief novelette set in a far, dystopian future. Nay, nay, foo foo. The only one I qualify for is the $10,000 award, which is no small change, to write an essay on Atlas Shrugged. 1069 pages. Make no mistake, I’m a voracious reader, and a large tome is not even a consideration when I read (nor a series, much thanks to Stephen King.) I read Atlas Shrugged 15 years or so ago, so at least I’m familiar with it. Ayn Rand is an extremely interesting philosopher. She’s also an extremely pedantic writer. Arguments via fiction are rarely well-written. Sorry, Ayn, but you’re no exception. I do hope I win. $10,000 will just about cover the tedium of not only reading that overblown tome, but actually researching and analyzing it.
Interesting: since starting this blog and school, I’ve added nearly 200 words to the spell check on this computer. It’s a 2005 Sony. Very interesting how technology has inflated the English language in such a short time. Well, away to school, where today I will continue assembling my first Power Point presentation. Oh, but college and education is so way cooler than it used to be. For example, my biology teacher posts her lecture notes online in several formats, including those I can download onto my iPod. How f-ing sweet is that?