Wickedyday

And back to the university for one more week; then a month-long summer holiday beckons.

Wait.

Holiday, holy day? But as an atheist I have nothing holy; yet an unholiday sounds like I would be working, which (heavens and advisor willing) will not be the case.

A month-long summer… bacchanal? Orgy of leisure? Bookapalooza? Saunathon? Riot? Hiatus?

Oh, okay. After this week I’ll be off for my month-long wickedyday; and off from the university, not from this blog of mine.

Because of all the various holidays it’s really quiet here at the university, which means them cleaning folks are busy scrubbing every classroom clean of the sweat, blood and tears of the students. (This is poetic exaggeration as this is not the biology building or any other where knives are handled and creepy animals occasionally escape or cling to trembling throats. The only residue teaching mathematics leaves is a fractal tree of chalky footprints, as the zombie lecturers shuffle to and fro, skin wrinkled and lifeless under the fine white powder of long accumulated lectures, undisturbed and cold like a dull dense cluster of cold distant stars as they lay down to death-like sleep in their coffins under the Long Hall. Er, that too was poetic exaggeration.)

And thus our regular cleaning lady, as she could not find a janitor nor anyone else, and as her regular helper was sick, asked me to help to carry a few (eleven) tables around. That was a nice bit of variety, doing actual physical, erm, whaddayacallit, erm, oh yes, actual physical work.

Mind you, I’m not averse to physical work. It’s nice stuff. I could just sit and watch it for hours.

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