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On keyboards, time and reproduction

Today, my new computer looks like a new computer. See, when I bought it I didn’t have a lot of money to throw around. I still don’t, but today I splurged and bought a new monitor and keyboard. So yeah, a spiffy new monitor - now operating at 1280x1024, and a spiffy new natural keyboard. mmm... natural. I’ve always hankered for a natural keyboard, ever since they were released. They just look so damn natural. Unfortunately, my über-dodgy typing habits mean that my speed and accuracy have just taken the biggest dive ever. All those times I was using my left hand to reach over and hit Y are causing barrels of trouble, and I’m back in remedial typing again, fingers on home keys, learning what should go where.

It’s my final week here in the pit o’ Boris ’n Garth, and I’ve got to say I’ve enjoyed myself immensely. I probably would’ve enjoyed myself a hell of a lot more if I wasn’t working so much, but soon enough I’ll be dropping down to an unprecedented 15 hours a week. I haven’t worked so little since I was 16, and for some reason I’m not earning much more now than I was then. Disturbingly, my third year as a Woolworths employee is coming up fast. I got my job on my 16th birthday (among other jobs I received that night) and it’s now approaching on the 3-year anniversary of that event. That is to say that it’s my birthday this Saturday, and it bugs me no end. 19. Nine-fucking-teen. That’s it for my teens, my precious, precious teens. I’ll never see those again once I hit 20, and the prospect of a birthday party is pretty dim right now since my parents’ house looks like a museum of home-open tidiness.

Ah parents, where would we be without them. I finally caught up with Laura and her beautiful little bundle of baby-flavoured goodness, Jenna. I’ve always been fond of babies. Not children, though - the sooner they start talking the sooner they start talking back, and I’ve always been strongly opposed to beings of inferior intelligence being given the ability to speak... parrots for example, but I suppose children have a world ahead of them where they might just exceed my expectations. Or they might shoot their classmates and bomb the school gym. Either way, I guess.