Breakfast of champions, although now my stomach is complaining. Curse my fragile stomach acid balance.
I'm thinking about taking some of next week off, what with my supervisors being away for various reasons. I am needing of the rest. Strange as it may be, I don't really feel like dealing with mouse poop today, but I don't really have a choice either.
I'm probably not going to make it to Unicon this year, but I already feel 'conned'. You know, tired beyond tired, full of bad food, weary of character sheets. Could have something to do with helping out with playtests two nights in a row... Obviously I'm not as hardcore as I was in my youth.
Someone asked me a little while ago what I plan to do "after the PhD". It only recently struck me that while I can consider such time in an abstract sense (ie., the time in which I get a science job and become a real scientist, not just a glorified scientific dogs body), I am having real problems conceiving of it. I mean, I find it hard to believe that the stress, the fruitless hard work, and the eternally long hours of writing up will actually end. That I'll get to the point of time where I finish my experiments, and hand in my thesis. I get that creeping feeling people must have gotten when they first tried to invisage the world as round, not flat - it could very well be true, but if it IS true then everything else we know of is thrown into question.
I feel as though Dr Skinner has put me inside a shuffle-box.