Saturday, November 18, 2006

Things that iritate me

Lately I've been getting quite irritable. Normally nothing much gets on my nerves. It must be my new job. For instance, every time I say, "This is about office tea cups" people think I've just said, "This is a bout of fisticuffs" and start punching at me, with me weaving back away and hitting my head off the wall. I'm getting paranoid now. I've started arranging to talk to people far away from any nearby walls when I need to say, "This is about office tea cups" to them, which is really difficult. The thing about nearby walls is, as soon as you go far away from them they aren't nearby walls any more. They morph in some really weird way that I can't describe or even understand so that they become instead distant walls, and then I have to go back to them and start again. I haven't figured it out yet because just as I'm starting to get my head around it (it always takes a few tenuous walks away, a few quick spurts and cautious returnings to the spot beside the wall) someone comes over and says, "What's this all about?" and I say... well you know what I say since you already know what it's about. I just don't know what to do. I don't even work in an office. I can't remember how the whole thing started. That's all that irritates me really, but it is very irritating.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Heh

Heh. Still slightly amusing every time I think about it. Though it used to be a vibrant comedy in glorious technicolor, and now I have to squint to see a faded monochrome image, sort of a double image, like the original image made itself skinny and fat at the same time. Still makes me laugh though. Once I laughed at an unexpected but beautiful step in a maths derivation when I was driving myself crazy in fourth year trying not to fail. Try not to do that. It brings on low self esteem when someone normal rubs their normality in your face. Can't meet their eyes. They know I'm really strange. Weird. Why would I be that strange? Why would I laugh at a mathematical proof? Look at them, blinking at sociably acceptable rates with their eliptical eyes, eminating sound waves, reflecting electomagnetic radiation. I wish they'd stop doing that. I wish I wasn't here. Oh, I'm not. Well, goodbye.