The past 3 days' postings don't count. I feel like I've been on a long vacation and I'm a bit disoriented now that I'm back.

Indulged in spending more money on Watson over the weekend and reloading him with all the programs I am used to having at a finger's touch. Hopefully, his new hard drive will hold out longer than the old one, and with twice the capacity (80 gigs) I won't have to worry about having space for my games for a while.

Games. The Burb family is totally wiped out and I'll restart their soap opera again soon. NFS:U, gone and I'll have to rebuild my 'pearlescent' yellow Bengmobile again from scratch. Doom 3, what can I say? I'm feeling the effects of my age quite acutely. Doom 3 is gorgeous, but I confess I can't play for long owing to the motion sickness I quickly develop as I trudge through the framerates of Mars Base. If I ever want to get an MC, I'll just play for a couple of hours and I'm good to go. And it'll be a genuine illness too. Then while I'm chillin' out at home I can play more Doom 3 to pass the time and there we have a truly viscious cycle that'll go on ad nauseam, literally.

I'm avoiding my immediate task at hand -- preparing tomorrow's farewell address to our Seniors on behalf of the Arts Faculty. I'm supposed to work with Mark (sci-fac staff rep) so we don't talk at cross-purposes, but neither of us have had the time to meet even though we knew this was coming from a long way off already. We might have called our joint address the "Mark and Min(dy) Show" but I guess it wasn't to be.

When you feel you're performing to other people's expectations, that's when anxiety sets in and you're paralyzed. Too many people have told me how much they're looking forward to what I have to say, or that they expect me to liven up the proceedings, etc., etc., so now I'm at a complete loss as to what I really should say. For a 5 minute address. People want me to be funny, but I don't feel funny. It's a farewell: I'll be lucky just to hold it together and say something without dissolving into tears and embarassing myself in front of everyone. The truth is, I will miss the Class of '04, and that isn't helping my sense of humour one bit.

Sigh. Enough delay. Let's get back to work.