Journal Entries
Late nights
Posted May 26, 2004
Why is it that I always function best after 11pm, no matter the amount of sleep I've got earlier... This is the time I'm most creative, most susceptible to philosophy, more understanding of ideas and theories, most likely to solve a mathematical problem I've been working on, more sensitive to music, and always the time when I write down silly little thoughts such as these...
Likewise, I can't function properly before 12pm. I simply don't work before the sun is atleast halfway over the sky...
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Latest reply: May 26, 2004
Spooky
Posted May 25, 2004
I was lying on my sofa earlier this afternoon (it's one of those sofas that you can't sit in, because you sink into it, and the only possible way of connecting your arse with it is to stretch out on your back and try not to fall asleep) reading The Salmon of Doubt, and I had just finished reading Adams' speech, "Is there an Artificial God?", when I heard this loud crashing noise from the kitchen. (What's important to know here, is that the end of this speech describes people being able to control a drinks machine from anywhere in the world through the internet.)
I jumped about a metre off the sofa (and that is quite a feat considering the sofa I was lying on) from the shock of this noisy intrusion into my otherwise quiet afternoon, and made my way to the kitchen once I've landed. So you can imagine my shock when I, on entering, discovered a pile of empty soda cans lying about the kitchen floor, and not lying in their plastic bag hung up on the wall where their usual place is (in Norway we're recycling fanatics, and that's why the cans weren't in the trash as you'd probably normally expect, but up on the kitchen wall in a plastic bag, or, more correctly, all over my kitchen floor, making a mess).
I instantly thought that someone had secretly hacked into my kitchen wall, causing it to dispose of the cans as any drinks machine would do, because this was cleary not an act of my cat, as it was outdoors at the time.
After a moment of reconsideration, I convinced myself that this was impossible since my kitchet wall is not connected in anyway to the internet, and couldn't be, since it is most definetly made of wood, and the only electricity in anyway near the wall in mention is a cord to a lamp that only works when the sun shines, and is therefore never used.
Clearly, something mysterious was going on.
It all turned out in the end, of course, to have a totally reasonable explanation, but I liked to play for a while with the idea that Douglas Adams' ghost had come all the way to Norway just to haunt me for being so late in buying The Salmon of Doubt (that's what happens when you are a poor student that never can keep within the limits of the monthly budget). The reason why the empty cans where strewn all over my kitchen floor, was that I had simply tried to squeeze to many of them into a rather frail plastic bag, and one of its handles had been torn from the strain.
So the morale of this story is that I should probably cut down on my intake of unhealthy, sugar filled beverages in cans, or at least try to get bags made of stronger plastic the next time I'm shopping for groceries...
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Latest reply: May 25, 2004
Lanfear
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