Someone made a computer game out of my face.

It's awesome

(Click on 'toons')

Procrastination Masterclass

The concept was simple enough: three essays in three days. I'm reasonably smart, I am an extremely quick reader, I have all the journal articles and books I need to write the essays. Three essays in three days? Piss easy mate.

I then started laughing in the face of time. I openly mocked it's stupid, perfectly round, clock face.

'Ha' I said. To it's face.

But then time turned around, raised one of it's time-eyebrows and said...

'I think you might be forgetting something Ms Mulholland'

'What's that?' I smirked

'You have the attention span of a ritalin addicted three year old. You might have more than enough time to do these essays but no way will you stay focused enough to complete them'

'Oh yeah? I'll show you time. I will show you good'

So here we are. The deadline I set myself is 5 o' clock on Friday. Right now it is 1am. I have 16 hours left.

Guess how many essays I have completed since the start of this ridiculous adventure?

None.

And do you know why?

Because I have the attention span of a ritalin addicted three year old.

Amongst other things, I've watched three episodes of How I Met Your Mother (Doogie Howser MD is my hero on it), two episodes of Dexter, one episode of the Gilmore Girls. I have renamed all my downloads so they adhere to the same naming system and therefore look much neater when you open the folders. I have spent time daydreaming. I listened to music. I had a nap or two. I wrote a blog.

You will be surprised to learn that none of these things are helping with the essay writing.

Martyrs Unite

So I gave up.

I went home for dog cuddles and soup and homemade rice pudding and my moms.

Martyrdom really doesn't suit me. It looks better on people that have a soul. Or an ounce of dignity in their body.

I left The Ford at 21:48 on Wednesday evening. It was the exact point in time where I was starting to feel better enough that I could actually appreciate someone looking after me but still ill enough that I wouldn't have to fake being ill to garner appropriate amounts of sympathy.

Which was nice.

Now I know, for one, I hate those stories and bon mots that start 'My dog does the funniest thing...'

But.

The red dog has really enjoyed my 'visit'. Pretty much every one of my used tissues has been taken out of the various bins we have around the house and torn up a little. Why? What does it mean? What does it achieve? Why does red dog do this?

Because she's nuts. If she were human she'd be Glenn Close's character in Fatal Attraction. She is needy and weird and obsessive.

The fact that it only happens when I leave her alone in a room for more than three minutes twenty seconds makes me think it's either a punishment of some kind or a present. Especially as upon my return she's always sat back in the last place I left her (behind the sofa, on top of the sofa, on her back with her head on a cushion). To be honest, red dog is starting to creep me out.