I'm recovering from the week's reunion, nursing a few insights in what used to be my maternal Grandfather's basement, reading Charles Stross' Singularity Sky while browsing on dial up and otherwise hiding out from the late-summer Alberta heat:
1) I had no idea the reunion would hammer home my new singlehood at every turn;
2) My career path seems to bear no resemblance to anything my profession has anticipated, to judge by the capricious and unreasonable demands for even the most entry-level of positions;
3) I am rapidly accumulating demands on my time, not all of which are helpful. And on That note, i get to juggle quite a few of them this weekend. Heh.
Ah well, I fly home tomorrow. All will be well. And Stross is really enjoyable.
But that was all she would say of the sound of that country.
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