Do you ever have the dream when...

...you are standing over yourself when you sleep? And when you are watching yourself stand over yourself your eyelids have become translucent so you can see yourself watching yourself and you toss and turn a bit and you get one of those images not unlike standing between two mirrors?
I think it is slightly scarier imagining yourself watching you while yourself when you sleep than imagining someone else watch you while you sleep, because although some complete stranger may be wathing you for strange perverted reasons or waiting for you to roll over so as to apply the poison via the ear in the traditional manner, just think about what what would happen if you woke up and found yourself? Universe implosion is a definate possibility, but having a conversation might be scarier:
"Yawn... oh, I had a dream about this, I though it might happen."
"Why did I make me so crazy?"
At this point I might start choking myself or something
"WHY AM I SO CRAZY! WHY DOES THIS GO ON INSIDE MY HEAD!"
Insert noises of me trying to answer while being unable to breathe. I, meanwhile, start hitting myself in the head.
"Stop hitting myself! ARGRAH"
I will then crawl into the fetal position while simutaneiously making myself a coffee and reading the buisness section of the dom post (its like its written in another language!). I have to go to school, but I hope that I will find time from my heavy schedule of bannging my head softly against a wall and mumbling to myself to do some laundry. It's going to be a nice day.
So, although the world would be a better place if it were populated by me, without the wars and stuff, there is still no gaurantee that the washing will ever get done. I did a load on sunday, but I haven't had the time to put it on the drying rack yet.
And so ends a long, rambly way to tell you about the status of my washing.

Anyway hoo:
People have been asking about my new flat. Yes, I have found one, and, with the approval of my shiny new credit card, the only person I shall soon owe money to will be the bank. But the whole stress of the situation has been gigantic. Teaching? Not as stressful as finding a flat. Peeling a particularly stubborn orange? Not as bad as waking up in the moning and having to contemplate the very real possibility that you may soon have to live out of a storage shed. Waking up in a newtown gutter without your pants? Not as bad as walking up the hill that is wellington and be charged $150 (+gst) for the pleasure. Letting fees. No, you didn't find me this flat. I found it. I found it by getting up at the crack of dawn for the last four weeks a trailing the streets, newspaper and trademe for a democile that didn't require me to sell my soul to satan to be able to afford.

Quirky Fact of the Day: Satan uses the souls sold to him as bath towels, or, on occasion, to wipe the mould from his skirting boards. Lord of Evil and constant Nemisis of Mankind he may be, but he just cannot stand the fact that he may not one day possess the full set of Soul Coloured Bathroom Accesories.

But the flat is nice. my room is of course the smallest one in the flat, but it at least gets some sun. And we have a LARGE living room. I don't need a large room when my work and play space is occupiing a quarter of our lounge where two of my friends who I have known for 8yrs also work and play. Hard. Many an evening has been spent blissfully, drink easy in hand, playing crib and 500, looking over the pretty substancial view of wellington, listening to music. Good time have been had and good times will be had in such a flat me thinks. Oh, and part of our kitchen bench can be moved around. We moved it into the middle as an island slash bar after we got D to move his damn matress out of it.
Oh yes, if you can remember that post of all the psudenoms of my friends, I am living with Calvin Shine and D. Or is his name Prometheis? I'm going to have to look that one up.

In other news: Not lots. Monday and tuesday are 18hr days for me, quite full on and not leaving much room for the simple pleasures. On wednesday the crazy ride again at the valve, and thursday is pretty much a solid block of classes from 8:30 to 5:30. but friday-sunday I only have work, and is as close to a weekend as I get. I plan to cook food and to wash my souls... I mean towels.

Hooray, its another day.