Monday, May 19, 2008

The end of a long weekend.

Seven o'clock on Victoria Day... where else would I be but (a.) on my couch, (b.) looking at the stacks of science labs I have to mark — rather, the bag in which they've been placed since Friday afternoon, and from which they have yet to be removed, and (c.) playing acoustic guitar along to Cake's Fashion Nugget album?

Nineteen more days of lesson plans, to-the-second schedules and endless paperwork. After that it's a week of exams, a few days of end-of-year tidying-up (and preparing for September), and then my life is mine for two beautiful months.

This is my sixth year of teaching (not including two years out in the middle "for good behaviour," as I like to tell people), and I still count 'em down like a rookie.

* * * * * * *

Living by oneself has its pros and cons. I had housemates for the last four years of university and the first four years of working, but for the four years since I've been rockin' it solo-style (two at Queen's, two back in Toronto).

Some of the pros are obvious (no scheduling of bathroom-time in the morning; no housemates leaving shit around the house for weeks for no reason; no near-fistfights with very bitter Italian-Canadians after you learn one of your ex-students has been shot [he was OK]).

There are cons, too — some of them are obvious as well (it does get a little lonely at times, but only very sporadically; nobody to split the bills with; no randomly-made dinners surprising you when you walk in the door from a long-ass day). But some of them aren't so obvious.

I think, in some ways, I'm losing my grip on reality. I'm a bit of a hermit sometimes — I'm perfectly happy chilling out at home and busying myself with, well, whatever strikes my fancy at the time. (Because I grew up in a small town, I'm seldom bored.) A side-effect of this is that I think I'm developing some habits that would be concomitant with being a crazy-person: I occasionally talk to myself in weird voices just to see what they sound like, I've gone four grizzled days without shaving (that's a lot for me), I'll eat a bowl of Master Choice Fruit Whirls at 1 in the morning if the mood strikes... shit, there's probably a dozen more that are flying under the radar right now.

Anyway, the moral of the story is...

...wow, does this have a moral? I don't think it does, other than the fact that I'm slowly sliding into insanity. But hey, what else is new?

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