Tell you one of poor Mad Margaret’s odd thoughts

I walked down to the train station today, to go to Boston. I have rehearsal this evening and class tomorrow morning, so Emily is letting me crash at her place, which is convenient. I bought my ticket, then got my bearings, and discovered that I had about ten minutes to spare. I decided and iced latte sounded good, so I went to go buy one from the cute girl who had sold me my ticket. I paid with a twenty and waited for my change, then walked away and got on the train. Now I’m just north of Attleboro and I just realized that I forgot to actually collect my drink.

I got drunk last night. It’ll be a regular Tuesday thing, I think — after Ernie’s seminar. We talked about Aristotle and McDowell and virtue ethics and ‘virtue comfort’ and virtue epistemology, and then we went to the GCB. Tuesday is a good night for that, because it’s Newcastle night. $2.50. I think I had six.

I was only somewhat hungover this morning. It could’ve been much worse. I didn’t love the contractors coming in at 7:45 to drill holes in our ceiling, though. They come in early quite often.

(I came in late on the second verse of “tell a tale of cock-and-bull” at the sing-through Monday. Sorry Emily!)

My life is so very, very full right now. Two G&S shows. Two seminars. A course at Harvard twice a week. TAing for Nomy (who might want me to run the course Friday). Rehearsing an hour away some evenings. It’s very intense. It’s looking less likely that I’ll have any time for dating. I’ve been very busy many times before, but I think this is the first time I’ve thought that I was too busy for dating. And after this weekend, the next two weekends I’ll be away at conferences.

I talked to Alyssa about conferences at the GCB last night. Apparently this Princeton-Rutgers one I’m going to is a pretty big deal; she says it’s very prestigious, and very impressive that I’m going as a second-year student. I told her I’m thinking of publishing my dream paper, and she was supportive and congratulatory. She suggested I submit to the APA Eastern, the deadline for which is a week from yesterday. I think I’ll do it, even though it means shelling out some more money.

I’m… I don’t know how I am. I feel odd. Distant. I feel more like I’m running my life than living it. I’m doing a good job running it so far, at least.

The first Oxfam meeting of the semester is tonight. I won’t be there, because I’m rehearsing for Yeomen.

Emily and I had a sort-of-fight the other day. I really hate such things, but it didn’t last very long.

I’m working on a paper on truth in fiction, to submit the possible worlds conference in Austin this April. Or maybe it’s May. Probably it’s April. The deadline is Tuesday. It’s coming along. I am very tired. The train stopped at Mannsfield, or some differently-spelled place that sounds similar, and then I thought that there was another train next to us going the opposite direction, because I thought I saw windows. But when I turned my head to look at it, it turned out to be street lights. And now they’re gone and it’s dark.

It turns out, I don’t know how to get to MIT from the commuter line. That’s just some truly terrible planning. I think this thing ends on the red line, maybe? I guess I’ll call Emily if I can’t figure it out.

This entry is kind of flailing around a lot, obviously. I sort of had this idea that there might be something I wanted to write about, but nothing has really come of that, has it? I just… I don’t know.

I’m going to either close my eyes and rest or work more on this paper now.