Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Job Prospects

I'm not going in to work tomorrow. My throat feels as though it's been worked over by large men with pipe wrenches, and I want to get a good night's sleep. Bless whoever invented Neo Citron. In a few hours, I will have another mug of you, and by then I should be doped up enough to pass out.

I've put in job applications to not one, but TWO JOBS in the past 48 hours. My excitement is mildly tempered by the fact that if I get any of these jobs, and they start before September, I'm not sure how likely I will be to take them. I want my summer in Kingston, even if I'm still working a good portion of the time. But the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of working for a while, and then using my master's to answer a pressing question about something I've learned at work. I like that idea a lot.

A bunch of us (old/new GW folk) went for wings, and then out for ice cream. It was keen.

I'm not really sure of what to do with myself now that all my vices (ie. cigars, pipe, scotch, etc.) have been rendered moot by my sore throat. Perhaps Neo Citron will be my new vice. I wonder if it's addictive? I'm not sure. Any chemistry folk out there know the answer to that one?

7 Comments:

At 10:06 p.m., Blogger Dave said...

Dude, what about the true sport of the hedonistic man? Cock fighting. You don't need your throat to partake in the joys of gambling on two roosters going at it. Tut, tut and all that.

 
At 10:55 p.m., Blogger Ryan said...

Dave: As much as I wish this were true, a cock fight isn't a cock fight unless I'm shouting to cheer on my favorite spur-wielding rooster, and attempting to lay down more Bahts on my wager.

I'll be back up to my old trick in a few days, though.

 
At 7:22 a.m., Blogger Dave said...

It's true I thought about that after I posted it and I realized you'd sure get some suspicious looks if you were the silent guy standing in the back corner of of some poorly lit backroom in Thailand. In fact, they would probably think you are some kind of secret agent and a super hot Thai woman would come back to your room with a bottle of $200 dollar champagne offering to give you a back rub which you would of course accept only to turn your back to her and immediately go into a roll, pull out your gun and shoot her just as you realize that her bottle of champagne was hiding an AK47. You'd look at her, say something glib about pumping her full of lead and head on to confront Rodrigo. If only you'd cheered.

 
At 8:09 a.m., Blogger Wandering Coyote said...

Anything that makes you feel that good (I was known to use Neo Citron at lot as a student) is addictive. It's full of sugar, too, you realize.

 
At 10:42 a.m., Blogger Ryan said...

Dave: That sounds like an excerpt from the worst choose-your-own-adventure book ever.

You have a cold. You...

1. Go to the cock fight anyways, knowing that you will be unable to cheer. (Turn to page 72.)

2. Drink Neo Citron until the walls start melting. (Turn to the next page.)


Fantastic.

Wandering Coyote: I should have clarified my question - I wanted to know if Neo Citron was physically addictive, like alcohol, nicotine or Tylenol 3. The big difference from something that's mentally addictive is that continued exposure to something that's physically addictive will cause your body to become reliant on it. Hence, when you cease your dose, your body ceases to function properly, and demands that you replace the missing "piece".

Just as my body will, once I get off this Neo Citron-fueled roller coaster.

At least, possibly. Anyone got any help here? Is Neo Citron physically addictive?

 
At 4:21 p.m., Blogger Wandering Coyote said...

My tongue was in my cheek, eh! I know the difference! I believe this :P is the popular sign for such things now. I know, I know...you're sick...I'll lay off.

 
At 5:33 p.m., Blogger Ryan said...

Ah, gotcha... I'm slow on the sarcasm uptake at the best of times, let alone when it's in text. I used to use the (~) symbol to simulate sarcasm. But that was mainly because it was the only symbol on the keyboard that had no purpose, and I wanted to give it meaning.

 

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