You Can't Fall Off the Floor

It's been almost a week since my little accident and, as per my amazing immunity, my finger is healing well. I'm almost done with my library internship too, however I have a feeling that these last two days are going to be long ones - tomorrow especially. I have been inspired by the intro lecture on Monday for Creative Non-fiction to be more fearless in my writing, excited at the prospect of incorporating Freud, psychology, and the sublime into my work once more with the Gothic on Tuesday, today I've been complimented highly by the quality of my piece on the graveyard (I genuinely couldn't believe the rest of my group had nothing big to point out to me). I got a bit wet bringing my Aldi food shop home as I didn't have a third arm to hold my umbrella. Just now, I got back from a performance entitled Pact with Pointlessness, a contemporary/comedy piece about dealing with death. I may have been reading too much into it, but the pressure of keeping that memory at bay by focusing on other things was very evident in Wendy Houston's performance. The comedy element, in my opinion, ruined it at times, however, I did appreciate the confusion and disjointedness of her words (reminding me a little of Hannah Silva's Schlock! which I saw in first year and I was enchanted by). At times she danced, at times she ran about, at times she danced and ran about in a cardboard box (weird). But it made me cry a little, without any particular cue or remark other than the tone which everything eventually took. The title of this post, by the way, was among the many random messages Wendy had scrolling across the bottom of a projected screen behind her at intervals. Made me think there was a message behind that; something about not being able to fall any further once you've hit the bottom. I don't know. 

Anyway, tomorrow is another early start so I'll be going. Classes starting for real in just a few days now.