If My Mind Had No Lid II

Reading weeks are not much fun.

It's almost as if you have this big, oversized, humongous, gargantuan behemoth of a Blender, and you chuck in all your days and round round the blades go, until the week rolls by in an indistinguishable blur.

There were times this week when I forgot which day of the week it was, simply because everyday seemed the same. Staying at home and in the library though, I realized that the ice-cream man makes his rounds at 2pm and 6pm, and that forcefully cheerful tune his van emits kinda cheers me up.

The ice-cream man must feel quite different each time he makes his rounds, though. On his 2pm round he's like a celebrated hero meeting his adoring crowds, as the children spill out from their houses and rush to him for sweetened treats. After all, with lunchtime just over, who wouldn't be in the mood for ice-cream?

On his 6pm round though, he must like a recalcitrant homicidal pedophile - on every street that he plies his wares, parents are pulling their screaming young aside, averting their gazes, dragging them away from The Man Who Will Spoil Your Dinner.

I bet he looks forward much more to the 2pm crowd.

Sitting in the same spot for too long seems also to sap the days of colour, such that you wind up absolutely famished for variety of any sort. But you can't really enjoy any guilty distraction either, because you're wracked with guilt for not concentrating on studying.

So it was that yesterday night, I found myself eyeing the bottle of Eye-Mo on my tabletop with my mind completely submerged in contemplation of the question "I wonder... what Eye-Mo tastes like..." I snapped out of it in time, had a good cry, then went back to reading.

Lest you think that I've been studying very hard this semester, please, disabuse yourself of that notion. I'm cramming my entire syllabus in like 2 weeks. For 3 subjects. I think I played too much this semester. And hi mum if you're reading now, this is all just hyperbole.