The next few days will be kind of quiet on the blogging front, as I'm in head down, letting my brilliance flow, essay writing mode. That's what I was doing today, from the moment I leaped out of bed in a panic (daylight savings always gets me by surprise) to the second I raced out the door, handbag flying, late for dinner with my visiting Aunt.
Of course, with all of that intense thinking, a good lunch was crucial.
It did fall apart when I attempted 'the flip', so maybe a B minus for presentation? A+ for harvesting the first fresh herbs of the season though. It's your standard 2 egg omelet with fresh herbs and shaved goats cheese. There was an espresso on the side (avgas for my brain) :D.
Now I am sitting in bed with my laptop and about to hack and slash my Forensic Psych(o) essay down by 457 words. I keep reminding myself that if Stephen King could edit 400 pages out of The Strand, I can certainly do this and maintain all the important stuff.
The pic at the top of the post is Christchurch one year ago today. I thought it might be fun next Saturday to take the pic again. A lot has changed and it's nice to have a record of how it was 'between quakes'. Now and then, it hits me still, the unreality of what has happened. Looking at that pic is giving me one of those moments. It's an innocent 'we had no idea what was coming next' pic. I don't want to be .. depressing, but looking at it feels like that part of a horror movie when you want to yell 'look behind you!', even though you know it won't change anything.
Good lord, I'm clearly spending too much time studying psychopaths..
Luckily, I have a totally reliable method of picking up the mood of the post. Simon's cat. I love this guy. Everything he does reminds me of Razzy:
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