Monday, December 20

what you fear is an illusion

or something like that. I go into the viva thinking that I'm going to be grilled like a christmas turkey (or that my beloved assessor would tell me to get stuffed)... and he turns around and does a football coach style motivational speech ("be focused, go out and build the best in the planet, be the best in the field", waves his hands around madly) and generally acts completely ... weird.

I'm spaced out. I really am. The man who chases down every single bug and nitpicks every single paragraph in a report (or so legend has it) let me escape in under forty five minutes. It can't be because I'm good (I'm being brutally honest), because hell, I can see holes the size of an average Abrams tank in my report. So WTF ?!

In other news, 50 things to eat before you die. I have apparently eaten an astonishing 41 of those. And I think the rest I pretty much don't want to eat anyway (Haggis ? yuck, Barramundi ?). And I intend having item no. 42 (Cornish Pastry) before the end of 2005. Hey, I'm in the same country, so surely ...

and in other news: it started snowing today. Just a small flurry or two that melted, but close enough. White Christmas, anyone ?


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