The archives job is over. Sad violins play softly in the background. It has been really cool, and I think that the 1500 scans are an impressive feat. It's also been really nice to have a routine. I know that I always say that my ideal career has me not doing the same thing every day, and that's still true, but there is something to be said for keeping regular hours.
I should have drawn a picture, or something, to commemorate the achievement, but I have recently been introduced to the work of Demetri Martin, and I now know that I'm just sort of funny. That guy is hilarious. Situational humour, observational even, which is the kind of funny that I like to think that I am, but way, way more. So probably no more drawings from me unless I come up with something really good.
Some of you, who are familiar with the pseudo-asthma that inspired the title of this blog, will be happy to know that I had another dramatic moment on Saturday. Luckily, with a little coaching, I was able to calm down and not suffocate. So, in the future, if it happens again, it can be cured by forcing me to breathe more slowly - in on count 1, out on count 2. Helpful trick!
I wonder if Thursday can come to my next apartment (the cat). There is one here, but she lacks personality and looks, and is currently out in the common room making the most odd and pathetic noises. She has resisted most attempts at friendliness and now it is over. But a furry friend would be nice. If you have a dog you're not using, let me know.
More blogging when the occasion warrants, I promise!
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there is no way you're getting a dog before me. NO WAY.
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