To sleep perchance to dream...

Not much up for blonking tonight. You'll have to wait with trembling anticipation for my rant about Parliment.

Just tired is all. Had a long day, what with the cupboard of DOOM falling apart and landing on my foot at work this morning, the temper-tantrums of spoiled children, and the realization that I have an metric ton of shit to get done by the end of the month, and absolutely no time to do it.
I mean, I need to pack, move, and clean the old place, help Emblita put in new floors in her new place, get rid on the gianorous pile of crap I've managed to build up over the last three years of living in this appartment...it just goes on and on.

And then there's the purely mental stuff. Like even though this place is starting (starting hell, it HAS) falling apart, it also the one place I've lived the longest in all of my time here in Iceland. Three years. That's the record. Four if you count when I lived in the basement from '97-'98. So I'll miss it.

Not only that, but I'm starting to get cold feet about going back to Uni this fall. The plan has always been to finish the BA (check) take about a year off (check) to pay of debts (ummm...) then return to get the teaching certificat and go on to a glorious career as a revolutionary English instructor. But I don't want to.

I don't want to go back to the triple-the-stress-one-fourth-the-income student life. I don't want go back to writing papers about inane theories.

Hell, I'm starting to have doubts about wanting to teach for a living. And for those of you who've known me for awhile now, you know that's a major change.

So I'm going to stand up, pour myself a glass of water, have a smoke, brush my teeth, and go to sleep.

'Cause that's really all that I can do.