Monday, March 7, 2011

Monday March 7, 2011


Sick in bed. Wondering why when I’m sick I really don’t feel like doing much of anything at all. It’s a long weekend in Buenos Aires, a holiday weekend. President Christina Kirchner reinstituted the Carnival celebrations as national holidays. The military dictatorship wasn’t all that into Carnival–too festive I suppose. Anyways, here I am not doing much; in bed with a sore throat during Carnival. Not that there is much to do in Buenos Aires during carnival. There is the usual long-weekend activities: lazy days lounging in the park; escapes to the Tigre delta an hour north of the city on the commuter train; Sunday- and Monday-night clubbing. My friends are doing all of the above. But my throat decides to go red and inflamed and scratchy. So here I am in bed. If I were one of those super productive sick people I probably would have transcribed the rest of my thesis interviews, mapped out exactly how I’ll go about the systemic analysis of qualitative data of subjective material. But I’m not. I’m one of those useless sick people who stay in bed all day watching movies and eating junk food. Junk food makes me feel good while I’m eating it, but then of course afterwards it really just adds a stomachache to the list of symptoms. The best thing about eating junk food might actually be before the first bite–thinking about eating it. The anticipation; because it’s never actually as good as I imagine it will be. Gosh I can’t believe its March 7th already. I didn’t even blog about my trip to the States. Haven’t even mentioned the PhD program in London. Well, not much use at the moment. I’m having a sick day, as I’ve already mentioned. Out of commission. They say blogging is done anyways. At least for non-public figures–that’s me, for the time being. Adolescents have already stopped blogging entirely. Facebook and Twitter offer more accessible, fluid platforms to express the “self” in real-time. Well I think I’m done for now. There you have my stream-of-consciousness paragraph. If I were a real writer I would go ahead and break it down, separate it by themes and then by thoughts, expanding into several different entries no doubt. But, like I said: it’s a sick day.

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