"I'm living in my office," or, "I'm incapable of writing mathematics!" or, "Ach ach ach ach!"

So those rumour-mongering mathematical astronomers have been spreading dirty lies about me. For the single barely-significant reason that I've been wearing the same shirt (but not the same undershirt or anything else, thank you) since tuesday, they're convinced that I've been living in my office.

Well, I have not been living in my office, but it certainly does feel like it. Why? Because I've been working quite a lot -- for example right now; check out the time! -- preparing various things, and in particular trying to write a paper and doing that computation I mentioned. Why why? Because I want to make competent applications for jobs quite soon, and all this should help my chances a bit.

Anyhow, not only does it feel like I've been living in my office, but for the same reason -- lack of time, leading to lack of fresh ironing -- I've been wearing the same shirt for ever and now look like I've been living in my office. Apparently I don't yet smell like I've been living here, but it surely is a matter of time.

So that's it. Busy. Ugly rumours. (I think the astronomers can technically be labelled a `gang'. I expect that they have matching tattoos and a pact (sealed, by starlight, in blood and spit, naturally) of mutual protection and ginger-mockery. They even have a weekly meeting called `astro-tea'. I bet that's a lie. `Astro-tea' must be a substance, not an event! They just sit there getting pie-eyed on star-candy pretending to have a team-building social!)

PS Dave: I'm currently listening to Godspeed You! Black Emperor. They're Canadian, you know!