Why does it seem that for almost every female who either lives in or comes to Traralgon, and who is anywhere near my age, it is practically compulsory to have/arrive with a long-term boyfriend, fiance or husband in tow/somewhere at a distance?
And for the younger, unpartnered ones, to have turned eighteen, married and/or had babies in the two years since I was gone?
IN OTHER NEWS:
The rain of corpses seems to be at an end. Now all I need to do is get through the mountain of reports that it has generated.
On Thursday, I got back in touch with an old friend I haven't seen in some time. My comment: I'm moving to Melbourne in February. Hers: I'm moving to England for two years in mid-January. OUCH!
We're catching up for lunch on Sunday. This means Saturday has to be my study/put post mortem tissue in day. "Study" may well consist of downloading and printing every reference I can find to correspond to my last two casebook cases (yes, I found two here at last that I need! One a thoracic case, the other a brain case! Yippee, I'm saved!). Then I can read/review on the train; two hours to find and download; two hours to read each way; that's my six hours study. Plus I have to put a whole lot of post-mortem tissue in.
Today is the 88th anniversary of Armistice Day, World War One. 11th hour, eleventh day, eleventh month - one minute's silence, local time, please. Remember those who fought and died for your right to (one day) have things like LJ, and those who are STILL fighting and dying for your right to have it today. Remember what submission to the enemy means to your wives, sisters, daughters, mothers, nieces etc... It effectively means slavery. Left-wing anti-war feminists, please take note.
Having tried it tonight, I know the pub/club scene is not for me. I am almost certain that if I am going to meet anyone, it will be through my work. At least until the study is over.
With a few brief exceptions, I have been studying in one form or another almost continuously now for twenty years. I am almost burned out, sick of study. Surely there is someone out there who can offer a pair of arms to sink into, just occasionally? Or to whom I can offer the same? Because that would be almost as nice, if not potentially more helpful. The opportunity to smooth some lovely young lady's brow, rain soft kisses on her upturned face and thereby take my mind off my own troubles? Good God, she doesn't even have to want to sleep with me (unless all we did was sleep); just holding hands and cuddles would do!
(Rolls eyes in frustration.) I try not to be angsty, but sometimes it just can't be helped. Maybe tonight (Friday) was just one of those nights I should have stayed home and wasted time watching DVDs on my laptop. But I still can't quite give myself permission to do that, despite the money I spent on the bloody things.
I know I will feel better, even 'chipper' as one of my LJ-friends recently put it, once I'm in study mode tomorrow and I've got a whole heap of new references to read and work through. Writer's block on my casebook seems about to break, very soon. But right now? (Makes horrid face.) I lack the strength to sustain being said 'no' to.