Sunday, 3 August 2014

Week Thirty-Four: Murphy's Back for More

All my life I've had a love-hate relationship with Murphy of Legend. His Law has long been woven into the fabric of my life, much like Monty Python, ISIRTA, and large equine quadrupeds. How it chooses to manifest is always a surprise, and when it works out in the end I am the first to offer thanks. Other times it is just hateful and obstreperous. Yes, I just used the word obstreperous in a photo blog. Deal with it.

Day 1 (232): 28th of July
Such a drag when the day starts earlier than is legal when one has gotten no sleep and has a seemingly unending journey on the itinerary. Not to mention rending one away from the delightful clutches of home and hearth. One would think these things get easier with practice (and I've had some practice, let me tell you). Truth is (apparently) that it never gets easier, and in a way gets more tiresome. In my silly youthiest years, I rebelled against a great deal of things (most of them illogical or not in need of a rebel), and one of those things was homesickness. I was far too cool to be tied to anything (or anyone) and wanted the life of transit and first class lounges. Was quite good at it, if I'm honest. It all seemed so sexy and easy.

Not that I hate travel - far from it. I still love gadding about and seeing all the things, but those fool blood ties and such are not so distasteful any longer. May be able to live any old place, but going home will never be a bad thing. Even traveling the posh way doesn't make the outbound journey more joyous. Just softens the blow a bit.

Day 2 (233): 29th of July
Best part of two days eaten by travel. And lots of free booze (not going to lie, it was nice). But now I've a headache to wake the dead and have to go to work tomorrow. And my power went out whilst I was gone. Thus my fridge and freezer were stinking soggy moldy heaps of vile malodorous death full of meat, veg, and cheese that had gone off beyond what can possibly be natural. Much bleach and profanity later I have a fridge with rather little in it as far as food. So this is all I will be giving you for the day. Munich, everyone.

Day 3 (234): 30th of July
Praise be I only have three days of work. FITREPs due this week, several new taskers accumulated in my absence, and apparently I will be embarking on the Good Ship Whitney (lord knows why) for a week. Just wait till the jet lag hits... Oh, and to add to the tiring litany of whinging, the power blow killed my wireless router. So I have no connection until I get a new one. But the sky is pretty, to there's that.

And there are clouds.

I may have been missed, but really, I think the Return of the Grub is more the cause for attention.

Day 4 (235): 31st of July
Found an old wireless router, but managed to blow it out, even with a transformer. Will just have to suck it up and go purchase a new one. Ugh. Buying things is annoying. So is moaning about every little thing. Isn't it? I agree. Photos are better. Here is a lighter.

And pretty trees.

And this guy again.

Day 5 (236): 1st of August
I'll not lie; the odd mood continueth. Got good news that I'll be teaching another class in September, and this one's in Madrid. Also learned that the reason I'll be embarking is simply because I am an officer and there were not enough of us going. Don't really have an issue with the trip; the commute from bed to work is about three minutes, someone else cooks all my meals, and we'll be getting some port time in France. I only rankle at the logic train. Really should know better after a decade of doing this. Logic has no place in the military. Which is why I put my TIE Interceptor in a tree.

Merry was rather bored by the notion.

But the Empire flies on.

Day 6 (237): 2nd of August
Despite the delayed-onset jet lag, have gottten crap sleep all week. But slept until v late in the morning, and then proceeded to do little more than my PT and read. And drink tea, because one just does. My alarm went all screwy again, so I await the gracious landlord's assistance. But now I have a new wifi thing, so am no longer disconnected (to the internet... life is another kettle of onions). And I may have to go in to work at midnight for about six hours. Waiting for that sort of call is really lame. Not lame is the 12ft Tom Baker scarf knitted for me by my darling Grannie. Now my TB hat has a mate.

Day 7 (238): 3rd of August
Praise the sweetness the call came to take me off the proverbial hook (not sure I know that proverb). Good news, as I've still not gotten back to a sane sleep schedule. Getting older is lame. So is having a poor vocabulary. Getting older is rubbish. That's a bit better. What is not rubbish is the display of amazing that is dance on my only reality show (SYTYCD). At least once an episode I can be brought to a complete halt by a routine. Usually those choreographed by one Travis Wall or one Sonya Tayeh. Honestly - their work can stop me mid sentence (not easy to do) or even mid chew (even harder). Check it out some time. In the meanwhilst, here is the random moment of zen for the day.

Murphy never rains, but he pours, no? But I suppose it keeps life a bit more interesting. 

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