litanies of woe; drabble, Discworld

The last couple of days have been marked by mostly, let us say, incompetence. Yesterday I got up far too early, went home, went back to bed for two hours, felt much better, and was just congratulating myself on my being up and chirpy and in good time for lectures when I locked myself out.

Today I got up in plenty of time - my sleeping habits have taken a dramatic upturn lately; today I woke up before my alarm, god help us all - and went to a ten am lecture on the institutions of the EU, which was marked by the fact the module handbook has been misplaced, and as such we were being told to turn to page 33, oh, see the diagram at the top of page 27, and you might enjoy the reference on page 101, and mostly sitting there staring into space. Also, the lecturer - who is none of the ones mentioned so far, and is so far only notable for her staggering incompetence - is a great fan of visuals, and as such, keeps trying to show us educational videos on YouTube and loading them in five windows at once so they start at ten-second intervals and turn the lecture theatre into this sort of echoing trance space. And then she tries to turn the lights off, and fails at that too. It's rather sad.

(It was at this point in the lecturer where I looked up from my desk in a huff and noticed, to my sudden delight, three saffron-clad Buddhist monks running serenely past the window after a bus. Clearly, this is the way to go.)

(Also, the European Union - yes, that one, the actual supranational body of twenty-seven member states - has its own section on its website for educational videos. What's it called, I ask you. What name did this august and worthy body choose?

...EUTube. I despair.)

It was made apparent to me later that I had to do some work out of this module book that I didn't have, and, accordingly, Nice Girl On Course and I went across the hill to try and find a copy. On the way, I was telling her about Harriet-the-cat, she who was bequeathed to us as a female and is usually referred to as "she", but nevertheless might have testicles, and explaining that we'll probably keep calling her Harriet regardless.

"Oh, that's all right," said my friend, "you've got a few years before she's sitting on a couch saying, 'They lied to me! I always knew I was different from the other girl-cats!'"

Through our joint attack of the giggles, she went on: "Maybe, when we're around everyone else, we should try and pretend we're normal."

"Yeah," I said thoughtfully. "Maybe that would be best."

The moral of this story, dear friends, that there are geeks everywhere, even on postgrad law courses, if you only know where to look.

I eventually got home, sans module-book (they've lost them!), and fed myself and the cat lunch, and realised all at once that a) I was about to fall over and b) this would be because I forgot my pills again, so I prised one out of the packet, went to get some water and was back just in time to stop my nine-week-old kitten swallowing down ten milligrams of citalopram hydrobromide.

Yeah. Sort of epic fail, today. (Although I'm not the only one. The European Parliament building in Strasbourg, my lecturer explained, is architecturally precise; the circular shape embodies the EU's values, its emphasis on strength, on unity. We were going to take you all there on a visit, she went on, but the roof fell in.)

I don't know why I tell you all my litanies of woe. Have a drabble.

translations, not a play by Brian Friel, 100 words. For hathy_col, who wanted Discworld, the Librarian, translations of "ook".

( ook! )