I got back from one of those trips out west yesterday. They are really quite bad, mostly because getting back makes one waste almost all of a day. Going west has always been much easier than coming back east, it really doesn't work out well. Besides someone chose to fight with the crew on one of my flights yesterday, making it somewhat unpleasant. Besides I don't like MD-88s, they tend to be non-uniform in the amount of leg space they provide.

But now I am back, and I need to write three essays, revise one, and make sure one makes sense. By tomorrow. While also working on type inference. And writing code for research. It is interesting how all seems to go well until I hit one of these points, and titter between giving up and just handing in some junk. And junk is truly how I'd describe some of these essays. Except that they seem to do well when handed in, my last one supposedly analyzed the topic well.

I managed to read most of a Murakami on my flight to San Francisco. It was a very nice book, well written and all, but put me in a funk. This seems to be the general effect of reading Murakami on planes for me. Which is strange, though being in a funk has some good effects. I got more work done on my second flight, than I have in the last couple of days. I also discovered this pen I had lying around which writes really well. I have not used many of my nicer pens for a while, and increasingly hole ridden pockets are making pens hard to carry around.

We had an argument about the ANSI C standard earlier this week. It was not an argument, more of a question, who's entire basis was knowing some subtle details in the standard. I don't even know the standard. What is amusing is that this came a day after a discussion about what time was. I got to meet a couple of friends I hadn't seen in a while, it was nice, we went to this Indian restaurant in the bay area I like a lot.

I have been working on these Classics essays for most of the day. Some of them have even been interesting. But I need to do other things, and this is pretty tiring. A lot of this is just about expressing my opinions on issues I don't have clearly defined opinions on. Or on things I don't wish to express an opinion about. I want to not give up on this class though. This is all very strange, I think there's a time when I wouldn't have done this. Someone, somewhere in the past, had a thing about how education is supposed to change us, since not changing is not learning. Or some such weird new age philosophy. It was a company, so one can be fairly sure it was printed in multiple colors on card stock. So strange, and all.