(no subject)

[hathycol]

I have spent much of today sorted all of my music on my computer out, and discovering that my technological incompetence aside, I can, in fact, burn the buggars onto CD. I am now listening to everything I own by the Dresden Dolls on one beautiful CD, and I'm amazed a how bad my computer speakers must be. I'd never noticed so much in the way of bass before.

This is, obviously, a legitimate form of procrastination. Besides, I'm about two-thirds of the way through my essay - all I have to do is waffle about the mob, something about Johnathan Wilkes, a half-decnet conclusion, and I am of the done! This makes me pleased, for the obvious reason that it means I can get it done tonight and get ratted, guilt free. This is a good thing, obviously, because we're going out early to experience the joy of a pitcher in the main bar in the union. Classy birds that me and Katie are.

Assassins goes badly. I might be dead, but I have no idea why. My assassin facebooked me (it's worrying that's a legitimate verb in St Andrews) to let me know this, although I'm tempted to disagree, what with my lack of being attacked in the street or lectures, or the fact that I've not have any poison letters or anything. We'll see, I suppose. Very confused.

Today is a beautiful, beautiful day. It's a shame I have spent all of it procrastinating and writing an essay, but I will go out tonight, and tomorrow I will write most of an essay and finish all my reading in work, and on Sunday I will finish an essay and get through a bit of another, and amchau is coming for a Fannish Night Of Joy on Monday, and then after that I finish all my essays and flail about a bit editing and then I sleep for three days.

And then it's the dance show. I saw posters for it today in town, and died a little inside.

[eta: Ahahahaha.

I have finished my first essay, and it is probably quite good, or so I quietly think. As I typed the word count, I received a text message from a Simon who has a phone that is finally working.

There was dancing and jubilation. Huzzah for me!]

~Hathy_Col~

Comments

[tashmania.livejournal.com]

My assassin facebooked me (it's worrying that's a legitimate verb in St Andrews)

S'alright, it's a legitimate verb in Notts too. For example, "I didn't get any work done because I was facebooking."

And *dances in jubilation* with you :D

[hathy-col.livejournal.com]

It's a very odd phenmona indeed.

[me-and.livejournal.com]

Why are you now assassinated? AFAIK in all the guilds (with the possible exception of Lancaster, which is SCARY) you need to know about being killed to have been killed...

[hathy-col.livejournal.com]

Exactly. I think it might be a cunning attempt to try and work out who I am. I've e-mailed the Umpire, anyway...

[sevenhelz.livejournal.com]

*pets*