small worlds

The world seems to be getting smaller. I don't mean in the typical sense that I may have bumped into someone who just happened to once share a chat, over a pint, in a remote pub, with the best friend of my colleague's mother-in-law. Right now, the world is pressing against me, rather like the walls closing in on someone remotely rugged, and Harrison Ford-like. While the world of blog seems to have sucked me into a parallel universe tonight, in which I have spent far too long wandering around the labyrinthine corridors of 'template tags' just getting the thing to "DO WHAT I WANT!", the real world feels a bit crowded and rather cramped. Perhaps, in fact, it's just the world inside my head which feels that way, with the boxes marked 'coursework', 'broken boiler', 'broken toilet', 'broken communication' all marked 'URGENT' and all tumbling into one, like some unfortunate incident of 'resting a little too heavily against one of those boxes' in the main hall of Tate Modern.

Oversensitivity and culpability seem to work together at school at the moment, draining those of us still human enough to care as we drag ourselves through the final week of term before the holidays come, bringing 'coursework', 'broken boiler', 'broken toilet', 'broken communication' to that other small world phenomenon: "how did the holiday fly by so fast?"