Okay, so that didn't take as long as I thought it would. Aside from changing the font, I have added a new gadget to the site. You can now sign up to get an email every time I post something new! How exciting, right?
Okay, but seriously, I need a few of you to let me know if the gadget even works. I don't want to give anybody false hopes by not removing it if it turns out it doesn't work. We cool? Cool. Alright, I gotta jet.
Toodles!
-Max
Thursday, August 27, 2015
I Know I Should Be Doing Homework, But . . .
It's time for another site revamp. For the next hour or so, Max's Life and Beyond will be down for maintenance. I'm just going to be doing a little redecorating, so don't worry. Actually, I don't even know how to shut down the blog for maintenance, so if you're on at the time of maintenance, you'll probably be seeing some funky things going on. But just so you're aware . . .
Toodles!
-Max
Toodles!
-Max
Sometimes, I Think I'm A Goldfish
Three months of not having to use my brain much for anything except "How many tomatoes should I dice?" and "Ooh, I need to get more spray paint for my centerpieces," and "We're having eleventy-seven tiny humans at camp this week? Okay, so that'll be eighteen pans of pizza, four pans of cherry crisp, and eight 200 mg ibuprofen tablets ..." (alright, that last blurb is a mild exaggeration; we didn't have that many people all at once come to camp this year, but you get my point). I haven't had to think too terribly hard this past summer. My main focus has been work and wedding planning. There may or may not have been a week in there when I went to South Carolina and probably forgot how to speak to other humans entirely because I was too busy sitting on the beach, watching the seagulls watch me watch them. A very brain-stimulating activity, by the way. But now I'm getting off-topic.
I moved back on campus on Saturday, August 22. I have a room to myself, save for my betta fish, Henry, and my snail, Spader.
They're great roommates, because they don't talk when I need to study, but they're crappy roommates because they don't talk when I want to talk. Henry just goes blub, blub at me, Spader hides in his shell, and I sit there like an idiot, talking to them anyway, trying to alleviate my deplorable desire to be around other people. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I have a private room, but it also sucks because none of my friends really want to make the trek to where I am on campus (which is almost not, I'm so close to the edge of it). I don't blame them; there's an elevator in my dorm building, but it's getting to the dorm that's almost too much effort.
So, I sit here alone (in a manner of speaking), and I just can't seem to get my head on straight. I was a couple minutes late for my 10:00 am class yesterday, because I thought it started at 10:30, even though it lets out at 10:50. Luckily, I realized it before I had waited too long and went sprinting across campus to get there.
Worse, however, is the fact that I'm a writing major and I'm taking a Structures of English course that makes me embarrassed to call myself a writer. I don't remember jack squat about participle phrases, or what gerunds are. I write based on instinct, but I couldn't tell you why I write half the things I write, the way I write them.
I feel like a goldfish; I can't focus on one thing for more than three seconds. My brain is going everywhere, and I swear, I forget everything the moment I hear it. You should hear me try to speak intelligently to other humans. It's like listening to a dog try to recite the alphabet; nobody knows what's happening.
I haven't been sleeping well, either, which could account for the stupor I've been in since I moved. Without fail, every night (or rather, morning?) I wake up somewhere around 6:00 am, and then fall back into a fitful sleep until 8:00, when I just can't sleep anymore, even though my alarm is set for 9:00. It's turning me into a zombie. An irritable, goldfish zombie:
Ahem. Moving on. My whole point for this post was to just moan and groan and try and get my head on straight. So far, I'm still as spastic as when I started, so obviously that's all going well for me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go suck down a juice box and try and get some of this crap out of the way so I'm not so...everywhereallatonce!
I moved back on campus on Saturday, August 22. I have a room to myself, save for my betta fish, Henry, and my snail, Spader.
 |
| Spader is cleaning the foliage. Henry is posing, because he's a fancy fish. |
They're great roommates, because they don't talk when I need to study, but they're crappy roommates because they don't talk when I want to talk. Henry just goes blub, blub at me, Spader hides in his shell, and I sit there like an idiot, talking to them anyway, trying to alleviate my deplorable desire to be around other people. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I have a private room, but it also sucks because none of my friends really want to make the trek to where I am on campus (which is almost not, I'm so close to the edge of it). I don't blame them; there's an elevator in my dorm building, but it's getting to the dorm that's almost too much effort.
So, I sit here alone (in a manner of speaking), and I just can't seem to get my head on straight. I was a couple minutes late for my 10:00 am class yesterday, because I thought it started at 10:30, even though it lets out at 10:50. Luckily, I realized it before I had waited too long and went sprinting across campus to get there.
Worse, however, is the fact that I'm a writing major and I'm taking a Structures of English course that makes me embarrassed to call myself a writer. I don't remember jack squat about participle phrases, or what gerunds are. I write based on instinct, but I couldn't tell you why I write half the things I write, the way I write them.
I feel like a goldfish; I can't focus on one thing for more than three seconds. My brain is going everywhere, and I swear, I forget everything the moment I hear it. You should hear me try to speak intelligently to other humans. It's like listening to a dog try to recite the alphabet; nobody knows what's happening.
I haven't been sleeping well, either, which could account for the stupor I've been in since I moved. Without fail, every night (or rather, morning?) I wake up somewhere around 6:00 am, and then fall back into a fitful sleep until 8:00, when I just can't sleep anymore, even though my alarm is set for 9:00. It's turning me into a zombie. An irritable, goldfish zombie:
 |
| Braaaaaaiiiinnnnssss.... |
This is Maximum Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός ταχύτητας.
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