12 September, 2006 at 12:16 pm (clerical)

I feel like it’s too soon to have another compendium post, despite the fact that the last one was in June, and was therefore some time ago. However, despite a plethora of incentive to ruminate, I have little of substance and only little substances to commit to writing. I have an unfortunate pattern of behaviour that when I am in transition, I cut off all of my friends and acquaintances. I shut down all communication until I have reduced the complexity and instability of my life back to a coherent and manageable ambiguity.

It’s my version of Douglas Adams’ Improbability Drive, using isolation and time to reduce the incomprehensibly large number of factors and possibilities down to a handful of threads that can be comfortably cats cradled. All of which is why I have been quite of late, on this front, over on Jehanne, and at the Brothel, as I’ve been attempting to once again find the pitch and yaw of normalcy, or what passes for it. I’m not expecting total stability, just the ordinary level of stuff I have to cope with.

Anyway, compendiantics:

+ I am once again in digital transition, trying to balance a lack of high-speed internet at home with the labyrinth of inaccessible sites at work. As of Friday, there is the possibility that DSL will once again make life easy, and I look forward to that. Although it will certainly mean that my flatmate and I will suddenly have even less of a reason to actually converse and interact with each other as we hunch over our respective monitors, sluicing data from the stream. We’ve been talking about getting accounts on World of Warcraft, and even if it means we’ll be interacting virtually, through avatars, in adjacent rooms, well… at least we’ll be carving out time to spend together.

+ My brother Peter is my flatmate, as he treads his way through a year of stressless retail activity before he plunges back into the self-rigors of higher academia. Neither of our diets are built around an exquisite palate, mine because I prefer bland repetition and his because he has S.A.D.-related hunger issues. All of which renders our refrigerator a large, electricity-sucking, magnetic joke. There are no vegetables and hardly any meat in the fridge, which is dominated by various sweetened beverages and bread products. In a snacking mood during the first week, we stared into our snack-less fridge, and Peter hit upon the idea of making a Bread Sandwich: a piece of oat bran bread sandwiched between two pieces of white. A week later he pioneered the French Toast Sandwich: a cooked and egged piece of honey oat bread slapped between two slices of oat bran. We’ve also seen a lasagne sandwich, just to include a different starch-between-starches concept. I’m beginning to see the makings of a running gag.

+ I’ve been getting up at 5:45am in order to be out the door by 6:30am in order to be at work by 7:00am, so this whole bread thing may seem far, far funnier to my deteriorating consciousness than it does to the outside world. I’m just sayin’.

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