So I’ve been awake since way too ungodly an hour since I got up to get a drink of water and realized “oh. we apparently don’t have water.” Also still have to figure out how to get Emily her keys, considering she doesn’t know I have them in the first place, and I don’t have a cell phone (still.) Which means I don’t want to leave Hyde Park to attempt to get cell phone issue resolved because I’m relying on internets to communicate about keys.

I’m unneccesarily stressed and paranoid about all this cat sitting stuff. Like some guy was right behind me going into the building last night and I was very conscious of him walking up the stairs behind me and I was thinking “omg, what if he tries to rob me? What if he tries to make me open the apartment and then lets out the cat?!?” Even though there’s plenty of electronics that I’m sure would-be robber would care about way more than the cat. But I would save my own cat over a DVD player and now that I’m talking about it, I’m getting myself anxious about this actually happening.

I’m generally never worried about my personal safety, and like there’s these moments of panic here, its always a bit of relief to open the door and confirm that yes, cat is still alive and well. And now I’m all paranoid and anxious to go over there, but I have to wait until an acceptable hour to confirm the water problem isn’t just my apartment and find out if I need to let maintenence people in.

I still don’t feel good. Being that I always feel about 15 degrees hotter than it actually is, the heat and I are not getting along already. And not having water is just a good way to start the day, when all I want is a shower.

Up till 2:00 reading Waltz & Sagan.

From now until May 31, nuclear strategy owns my life. Then, until June 5, my life is owned by US-Asia relations, more nuclear strategy, and conventional warfare/Iraq.

I’d like to claim that my life will be owned by nothing after that, but I’m go to be a ball of anxiety until I find a job. But either way, my academic career will be over in a little over three weeks. (or WILL it?!? Stay tuned for at least a year’s more hedging on to PhD or not to PhD!)

This weekend consisted of both what Eric described as “a comedy of errors” and a degree of unmitigated disaster. Shockingly, I’ve remained amazingly calm, mostly because at the end of it all its been “well, what can you do?” And other than some bruises and a way-too-long-wait for the #6 bus it’s all okay. However, as a result I got much less done this weekend then I should have. My only accomplishment is that my LRS assignment is the unofficial first 10 pages of my thesis.

I am NOT looking forward to writing 60 pages in the next two weeks, nor do I want to deal with all the bureaucratic nonsense I now have to deal with. And I can’t do any of the bureaucratic nonsense until I get the fed-ex package containing my passport.  (Incidentally, this morning I located my old Skidmore Campus Events ID, which does have my DOB; I wonder if it would have made a difference even though its not government issued. Oh well.)

Also, I am graduating in June if it kills me. June 8th, to be exact.

And other than that, I got nothing.

Grad school really is a freaking roller coaster. My good mood and positive attitude lasted approximately 16 hours. Now I am anxious over something I screwed up for work (the dread of waiting for your boss to come talk to you about what you wrong. In this case, the dread is going to last until 4 PM tomorrow when I next see him). I am also back to stressing out about empirical/statistical methods courses to the point of nausea.

I WANT  to be able to get into a PhD program. If I don’t get in where I want, am I going to regret not taking this stupid class that was recommended to me? Is it going to be one of my big “if onlys?” I’m trying to put this is perspective, but I’m having a difficult time, because being at U Chicago is like having blinders on. At U Chicago, they think they are The Authority on everything, and so whenever ANYONE in a position of authority tells you anything, you think you have to take them on their word, regardless of what you may think/feel.

(It’s funny. One of my “issues” is I have a lot of defense mechanisms that are often unhealthy. U Chicago has massive defense mechanisms issues, because outside of academia, people forget about U Chicago because it’s not among the Ivies. U Chicago is an amazing institution, and the name carries a lot of respect in academic/law school circles, but not to the general public. U Chicago thus overcompensates by proclaiming to by the Final Word on everything. I mean, I’m sure all schools do that to an extent, but Chicago is ridiculous about it.)

Maybe I should just lower my standards and accept the fact that no matter what I do I will not get into my Super-Secret-Dream-School. But then, what if getting some empirical methods experience is the deciding factor in considering me there, and blah.

And now it sounds like I’m basically whining because I don’t want to take a class because it’s hard and it’s boring and whatever. I mean, I know I’m going to have to do these things within a PhD program eventually. Maybe I should just suck it up on the Comparative Politics front.

Maybe I should just not take the class I think I need for my thesis; maybe I don’t really need a whole class on The Prince in order to incorporate Machiavelli into my thesis. And then I can take Florentine Republic next quarter anyway. Maybe.

Ug. I need to talk to someone who is not my precept about this and get a second opinion.

Oh. My. God. It is so hot.

Last winter, when I was living in Jersey City (you pay for your own heat in Jersey) and I used the heat as little as possible because it was electric and thus very expensive. Brent accused me of living like a Dostoyevskian prostitute.

Now, I live in Astoria, land of great power failures and no A/C. It is 117 in my apartment right now. I am sitting on my bed, in my underwear, in between 3 fans and I am still sweating. The sensible question is “Why don’t you go elsewhere?” Well there’s only so much time one can waste at B&N and other air conditioned locations when all your friends are rushing home to their air conditioned apartments. I get restless. And I am somewhat of a homebody and enjoy being in my own space.

Tomorrow is supposed to be worse. I don’t know if I can do it.

I am really paranoid about dehydration too. This heat is scary.

On the plus side, my apartment is like a sauna so my skin looks absolutely lovely.

Why on Earth did I come to work today? I make the decision around 9 PM that I would call out or take a personal day, and yet, here I am. 

I am a pushover, somehow.

I am taking off tomorrow. It will be at least 99 in the shade and I will have just gotten paid (though not laid. I used to think that was the lyric. I mean, its JBJ. Of course he just got laid. He’s hot.)

Photos from the Reason gathering went up. Terrible hair day aside, they are proof that Libertarian women are all hot. 

The theme of today is “hot.” Carry on.

And I am taking a vacation day on Friday even though Michael is unable to visit this weekend. So instead of complaining tomorrow that it is only Tuesday, I will think “yay, only 3 more days of work.”

Anyway, data entry awaits me for now, but I shall return with pictures and tales of DC. Visiting DC has spoiled New York museums for me, because I adore being able to waltz in and out of the Smithsonian’s (and yes, I make donations.)  

Nothing of Particular Interest

Whine. Not Wine. Which, Come To Think Of It, I Could Use