|Is it panic, or one coffee too many?|
To put this all in context, I have an application due this Friday, and although much of it is done, there remains some red tape that's still sticking to its roll and unlike the toilet roll paper of life that CA referred to last night ("Facebook Philiosophy: Life is like a roll of toilet paper - the closer to the end, the faster it unrolls"), this particular roll is sticking hard and fast to the administrative desk. They do this to torture us you know, they really do. I'm also waiting on various bits and pieces of paper from other people, and I'm not getting them. As a result, I've started waking up at 3:30 am in a panic. This can't be good for my heart - it's certainly not good for my mien, nor my state of mind, or mood.
The thing that really kills me is that in the background, a second application lurks, and the second is due April 1st - neato eh? A little cosmic joke on the part of the funders eh - except they have no sense of humour - when you ask a question (face to face, this was), the representative answered by quoting the exact text from their website ("for liability issues you see"). The collective panel of reviewers rolled their eyes in unison, and the resulting wind made the papers on the desk flutter in an agitated manner.
|Probably a bad idea to ask for a letter when this is my mien|
So I'm in panic mode today - already trying to get out of the house, I went down and then up, and then down, and then up and then down the lift before finally giving up and biking without essential bits of clothing to keep essential bits of me warm - the fingers what type and submit applications you see - I have 10 pink bits now, and had to stop at Mr. Bean's for a warming cup of coffee where Boo-boo the barista has lost his voice, and pinned on his lumber jacket shirt under a full, dark beard, is a notice that he's written, "I have no voice today, please bear with me", and I'm laughing inwardly because he has no idea what little meta joke he's propagated.
|Torn - yes, someone will be torn - right in half - today.|
Last night, I met with CA and DWA and the two boys - very unfair of DWE to call J "jowly jim", takes a bit of nerve actually, and I shan't explain why - he'll just have to reach back to the 2008 entries when I was on a daily diet, and not expressing hunger. In any case, hunger was not in evidence last night as CA and DWA had put out for the Memphis Feast and bits of unhappy animals were being thrown around for CA to chase down. He got every piece too even if they weren't happy barbeque. Just unhappy sentients. Then DWA in a fit of anger and depression over his travel plans (or lack thereof) "It's not fair! I only get to go to Salt Lake City on a direct flight in a small plane - it won't feel like travel at all!", threw a glass of red wine against the kitchen wall and over my bike cap - which is another reason today my head is pink and not nice and toasty.
|Panic! Can the molotov cocktails (creme de menthe) be far behind?|
Okay. Must. Not. Panic.
Instead, what you can't control, you look at with disdain (money follows those that don't care), and what you can control, you do the best that you can in the time allotted and remember in the back of your mind that this is an ice-skating competition, the results are pretty much fixed by circumstances beyond your control, and the chances of an upset are about 2%. So really, why not just start an import - export wine business and grow yeast all the while like some did.
MUST. NOT. GO. DOWN. THIS. PATH.
|I've just scuppered my chances for canonisation...|
* RP explains, "The name is a play on words...many popes have been called Pio, but is a slightly change from "piglio", which means "I take"... "perculo" could be the equivalent to "the piss" (literally culo is arse)... so the name Pio Perculo would be "take the piss"...just the way Berlusconi makes fun of the people who elected him..."