Maggots!

At half eleven this morning, I had one of those moments where you sit back and ask why, exactly, does this sort of thing happen to me? And is it because of something I did in a past life or just general malevolence on the part of the universe?

To be clear: I was sitting with a glass dish full of wet sawdust, looking for maggots. Ten of them, alive and squirming, all of which had to be dug out and returned to a beaker. I found the first four easily, but had to do some serious digging to find the rest. My biggest fear is that I missed one, and it's still there on the windowsill in the sawdust being maggoty.

I don't think I liked this practical. The afternoon one was no less successful, involving a managante(VII) titration. it's self-indicating, which means I make less of a mess of things; still, once we'd finished everything was violently purple and concordance really not an issue.

Anyway, today has been rife with people saying misguided things:

Rice-Oxley: The amount of testosterone produced by a male animal is directly proportional to the amount of aggression it exhibits and is so also proportional to the size of its... territory.

Me: Oh.

Sarah: We thought you were going to say something else.

-

Mrs Colvin: You're not ethnic minorities! You're girls I teach!

-

Sam: I found two rulers and a sheet I'd lost.

Mrs Barry: Where?

Sam: In the Lostprophets box... oh.

-

Mrs O'Connor: Iona - define "lascivious."

Me: Lustful? Aggressively lustful... depraved? Depraved, but a lesser degree of it. Sort of. I think.

Mrs O'Connor: She's great at this, isn't she?

-

Fidan: Iona, you look happy, which is not normal for you.

-

Well, she's right. I'm happier lately, for a clear and obvious reason, but I'm also rather bored. I'm between fandoms, it's ages before the holidays, the UCAS cycle is ending and it just seems like we have nothing to do until study leave begins, and that's not fun because it involves revision.

I don't know. I need something new to think about.