20 seconds ago, I was entertaining the thought of abandoning the humanities forever. What does sitting around debating Plato, waxing lyrical about the relevance of classical Greek rhetoric, and having periodic existential crises mean to me? Would I care whether you care about the ethic of reciprocity and theories of literature? (Also: don't you bother to trim your nose hairs? Why that contemptuous, condescending attitude? Can't you try to understand the syllabus you're teaching? What? You don't know the books you're doing? Oh, now you're talking about "pecking order" and no, wearing green does not mean I hail from *there*. We have more than two schools here in Singapore. And yes, you do teach in the same school as those nice people over there. Um, hello? Omniscience malfunctioning today?)
And then I realised that I'm just associating someone I've never understood with things I've tried to understand so I'll just forget about that entire debacle, although when I'm bored and disenchanted in general I end up replaying situations and editing-in alternate endings.
Anyway I really miss being in school. I don't mind dedicating my life to researching cancer and diabetes because my family's medical history has all the drama of an Italian soap and maybe I'll be all like "my great-grandaunt struggled with [obscure cancer] and I want to find a cure for it", and then demur that I've found some leads and I'll work at the lab over the weekend. While at a dinner party wearing fancy cufflinks. With a belt that matches my shoes.
I'm being random today again!
I would love to have a cheesecake that had actually been baked.
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