I sometimes wonder what the acme of forgetfulness would be (outside of and ignoring amnesia). I mean, I remembered Buster (though I have managed to forget him before), I remembered Buster’s power cord (something else I’ve forgotten before as well), and I remembered all the books that I normally haul around with me to and from work (some of which I’ve forgotten several times, including the binder). I remembered to bring something in for breakfast but really didn’t grab much for lunch, but that’s not so much forgetting as not wanting to have to think about it so early. What I forgot and what is so important is that my sheaf of notes is marooned on my desk at home where I clearly can’t get to them to use them for the thesis. I think that half my problems thus far with the thesis have been as a result of my having forgotten some key bit of research or some crucial book or even hardware. If it weren’t for the fact that I really need to work to be able to pay for whatever the van’s going to have to have done to it, I’d stay home where all my books and papers and notes are, not to mention my husband and cat. They don’t have stupid conversations about sports or gossip about other university employees. Kitty just tries to trip me now and again and Ian just throws paper towel wads at me now and again. Aren’t they wonderful? I wish I were home with them rather than being here. Oh well, I’ll see what I can churn out without those notes, and if I discover it’s not working out or that I just can’t keep going without them, I’ll head home. It’s not like I can have Ian run them in–I have his car and the van won’t start. Something about the battery being fucktarded and leaky and maybe something else about the starter being fucktarded and mean. Oh well. I’ve just gone through all my pages, responded to all the e-mail from students, and now it’s thesis time. Whee. I’m gonna go make tea.

Thesis counter: 65/90       Insult of the day: salopiot ‘bastard (fam.)’