Friday, March 11, 2005
(9:15 AM) | Adam Kotsko:
Friday Afternoon Confessional
I confess that I feel like an idiot when I tell people about academic opportunities that may be heading my way, not simply in anticipation of feeling like an idiot if some of them don't come through, but because I can't help but sound pretty damn impressed with myself. At the same time, I don't have a job, and I am finishing up a degree program that leaves me with several pieces of writing and a good background of reading, so if I wasn't doing at least some publishing and conference-going, I would really look like an idiot. Unless, of course, I had gotten really far in Grand Theft Auto III.
I confess to being pretty annoyed with Blogger lately. As I was telling Discard as we negotiated the customary routine of new guest bloggers not having their name show up, it usually acts up for just long enough for me to consider trying a new platform, then it starts working fine, so that it no longer seems worth the trouble to switch. It's similar to a phenomenon I've observed in stop lights -- when it's late at night and a light is taking forever, I sometimes think about running it. Just when I've reached the point of deciding, "Screw it," and reaching for the gas pedal, it changes.
I confess to being amazed at the sheer amount of garbage that can be produced by three people. I am also amazed at the sheer number of people who do not put in a new bag after taking out a full one. I'm not trying to be passive-aggressive toward any particular person who currently does this -- after having a lot of different roommates, I've come to understand that my approach to cleanliness is distinctly in the minority. I just don't understand why you want to wait until you've got something to throw away, so that you can put the piece of garbage down, then put in the garbage bag, then throw it away, when it's so much easier to just put the new bag in right after you empty the thing. It's similar to how I don't understand why people would apparently prefer to fumble around the bathroom with their pants around their ankles looking for toilet paper, rather than just changing the roll as soon as they finish it. Under my proposed system, if you happen to have run out of toilet paper altogether, you can do something about it before you're sitting on the toilet with your pants around your ankles again. Of course, if you live with multiple people and don't expect to be the next one to go to the bathroom, then the free spirit approach to toilet paper roll replacement is eminently sensible -- perfect for all those little brats whose mamas never made their little precious do jack shit around the house!
Man, this is becoming a distinctive genre of mine.
