September 18, 2005

It Is Well, It Is Well, With My Soul

Well here we all are again, on the internet, reading things I've written. Or am currently writing. What a goggle. What a goggle, INDEED.

Despite the rumours (perpetrated by myself by the statement of raw facts in previous entries) I am not returning to university at the end of this month. Why? Because that precious -2% off of a 1.1 in my degree has cost me. COST ME BIG TIME. I have not been granted any academic funding. Yes, that's right. I have been REJECTED. Because of this REJECTION, my life has been thrown into WILD CHAOS. My future is positively now a potential cacophony of hilariously disastrous events. So we shall just have to see, dear faithful readers, what will unfold. Will it be a napkin? Will it be a bedsheet? Will it be a tshirt? Or will it be some form of "career"? Only time, that old chatterbox, will tell.

My original plan, to return to university in 2006, is being reverted to, only now I am open to being perverted from that course in life. I am considering, in a lazy way, taking some time to be "creative" and whatnot. I am asking myself WHO AM I? and WHAT DO I REALLY WANT? and WHERE AM I GOING?

The answers are usually

1. neuro-praxis
2. a toasted sandwich
3. to the toilet.

Sometimes though, I ponder on writing, properly writing, or getting into radio (those little boxes are more resilient than they look!), or being some form of "counsellor" who advises induhviduals on life improvements. Unhappy? neuro-praxis suggests: PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE ELSE. Angry? neuro-praxis suggests: CUT YOURSELF. Depressed? neuro-praxis suggests: DRINK THOSE BLUES AWAY!

In one week I will have been married a year. How absolutely and completely ridiculous. Sure I'm only a child, for goodness' sake. The year has flown by, and we have melded into adults with salaries and a whole house to ourselves, and a car, and hobbies, and it's all been a blur. And yet I still ponder on quiet Sunday nights about what I want to be when I grow up. K is still as fabulous as ever, tottering about aimlessly in his bunny slippers, waving his shotgun at the neighbours. I tell you cynical anti-marriage types something: you do not know how very good and fun it is to do this marriage thing. It is an agreeable place to be. I would like to recommend this CRUMBLING SOCIAL INSTITUTION to one and all. Yes, I may get a bit bored when I'm forty seven and still polishing his shotgun, but hotdamn, it's sweet round at the praxis/tard household. I recommend you all select a suitably willing companion and have a sip of this cup. How bad can it really be, hanging out with your favourite person til you croak it? Or til you grind up a wineglass and put it in his morning coffee?

I'm done for now. There is more in me but it's too late and we haven't had any dinner, because we're just MAD like that. Ask anyone. I'm off to make toasted sandwiches and sing along to my Aimee Mann cd. I might also play my drums because the neighbours are on holiday and I got a pair of nifty wire brushes today, which are both SHIPSHAPE and SPANKING. And a bit TIP-TOP.

neuro-praxis -- We Feel Our Best When We're Looking Down

Posted by neuro-praxis on September 18, 2005 10:29 PM, in the category Children, Pets, Guests