48 hours?
Not even that?
I think I begin to get numb. 🙁
When things are good, you never want them to change. But they do anyway. And once they do, you can never go back.
I want to leave Chicago. I’m itching to go. I don’t want to spend the extra seven days here, I really don’t.
Is fall a long way off?
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Since Saturday morning, when on my own I have done little more than smoke cigarettes, swill booze, drink coffee, fidget with my camera, visit the same three or four Web sites over and over and over again, and read and respond to my email. I have been to the library umpteen times, but all I manage to do is 1) sleep and 2) stumble outside for another cigarette.
Not good. There is a lot of packing and shipping to be done, and there is a lot of paper writing to be done. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just a fscking lunatic who’s unable to control his mental apparatus, that’s what. I need to sort it. I wonder if I’ll ever grow up.
Somehow I doubt it.
—
Last night I recoded my photo indexer to handle Canon raw files in addition to standard JPEG images. Now I can properly index all of the Canon raw photos I’ve been shooting since I “exploited” my Muvo2 for its 4GB microdrive.
The combination of Canon raw and Photoshop’s ACR has me reconsidering the switch back to Olympus at times… With ACR, the camera really is like a whole new camera — much better results, in particular with regard to noise, metering, and white balance.
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I haven’t heard from the professor I want to use as my advisor. This means that I will have to go to his office today to bother him. Last thing in the world I want to be bothered with… but I’m running out of time to get this paperwork submitted. Suck.
I suppose I should feel really apologetic for wanting to take up his time and for asking him for such a huge favor in the first place, but I don’t. This is grad school. We’re all here to work for ourselves, not for some higher goal like the brochures tell you.
I have run out of patience for this whole grad school thing.
—
One of the people in my department circulated an email about people who are hiring novice sailors to spend the summer on boats on lake Michigan (yes, getting paid). That would have been pretty damn cool. But oh well, I got tickets out of here and a publishing project to work on.
—
que sera sera