300 Posts, and I Wonder Where My Time Goes.

Yes, folks, this is my 300th missive from the front. The battle against the PhD forces still rages, but I am confident that the boys will be home by next Christmas… or at least by Christmas 2009.

So how am I? Well, I got my first PhD mark back today, and it was my absolute favourite vowel, so I think that is something to celebrate. I am currently wrestling my final paper topics for April to the mat, and I hope to do them better justice than the last ones, but you know how that goes. (By February, I’ll have lost my missionary zeal and will be back to thinking I have loads of time.)

I just got word today that my PhD seminar prof forgot to tell us sooner, but we have two books to read for the first class on Monday, totaling well over 700 dense pages. I guess that’s a moot point as I don’t even have a copy of one of them, so I have, in my oh-so-efficient way, reduced my work load to 500 dense pages. Probably not the way he would have recommended it, but I think it’s genius.

I am still waiting for my last mark, which should be in tomorrow, but as long as it stays above the Equator, I’ll keep my funding and I won’t have to resort to ritual suicide… this time. That being the case, and I may live to see my next birthday, I am branching out into new skills and landscapes.

I am undertaking a brand new hobby. Don’t laugh, as I am sensitive (believe it or not), but I am actually learning to throw my voice. (If you knew my aptitude with sports, you’d know that’s about all I am up to throwing.) If all pans out, and I practice for three hours every day for the next two weeks and get better, I will be buying my first dummy. In a few years I can take the training wheels off, and it’s off to Vegas with me. You know that the kids are just crazy for ventriloquism these days…

So, as you can see, I am reaching out to grab life with four hands… Of course two of those hands are made of wood and are attached to unfortunate metal rods, but what can you do? We will not accept your prejudice against our love.

In other news, I am back to working on my novel, and, while it’s no masterpiece, it does amuse, so I hope for the best, as always. (Actually, no, I don’t always hope for the best as I tend towards the pessimistic. But, you know, it’s time to change that, right? I watched Celebrity (1998) tonight, hoping that it wouldn’t make me want to open a vein. That was optimistic, right? Turns out incorrect optimism, but, hey, it’s a start.)

So, after 300 posts, I still have plenty to say. Maybe you don’t want to hear, but that’s fine. I am becoming proficient at talking to myself, so soon I won’t need you.

I’m looking forward to 300 more! (Which, at this rate of neuroses, will be by April…)