Things Get Hairy

Responsibility.

It's amazing how some words can have such ominous overtones, much like the phrase "we need to talk" never seems to precede good news (as couples all over the world know by now), or the surprising way the word "hollow" conjures up an image of an empty tube of some sort. You know what I mean.

Sitting here in the study room at my parents' (and Meet Joe Black in the background), I've been slowly taking stock of how my life is going to change in the next couple of years, at least financially. There's no two ways about it: a lifestyle change is imminent, no matter how I personally feel about it. There'll be at least some cutbacks, especially when it comes to frivolous spending, and now more than ever I'm just thankful that the apartment (though rented) is just a few inches away of being truly complete (I still need to clean up) but at the same time I will definitely have to consider moving.

Scary, because moving just as everything seems to be okay requires a whole lot of work, and with university policies being what they are, opportunities for me to moonlight are kinda limited. I take comfort in the fact however, that I've been worse off; that I've had to live with way, way less than I have now, and that there are some things in life I refuse to run away from.

Which sadly, does not include saving the universe, but I'm sure people will understand.

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"`My doctor says that I have a malformed public-duty gland and a natural deficiency in moral fibre, and that I am therefore excused from saving Universes.'"

-- Ford Prefect's last ditch attempt to get out of helping Slartibartfast in Life, The Universe and Everything, Douglas Adams