Responsibility is overrated

What I SHOULD be doing right now: Going through all my education material so on Thursday, when one of my students asks me a question, I sound like I know what I’m talking about. I’m a firm believer in the theory that every time you learn something new, something old falls out of your brain into some anti-intellectual abyss. And I’m pretty sure that abyss is full of important information that I need to shove back in. Before Thursday. Which is soon, in case you don’t have a calendar handy.

What’s worse is I’m pretty sure a whole bunch more stuff fell out of my head today thanks to my boss, who is forcing me to read “A Short History Of Nearly Everything”, which as he pointed out I promised to read (because he read it, disagreed with about 97% of it and wants me to read it so we can spend the next 6 months arguing about it between clients. Hence the promise part) about 2 months ago. My excuse then was I couldn’t because I was in the middle of rereading a series of 22 mystery detective novels all in sequence and I could not start reading anything else until I finished. Which was a lie because a) I have at least 3 books on the go at all times, b) I finished that series before Christmas and had read at least 10 other books since then, and c) I don’t want to read a book about the origins of life and the universe (even if Bill Bryson wrote it, who’s books I happen to love) because while I believe in science/evolution, I can’t think about it too much due to my rampant paranoia about the fact that there is no reason our universe doesn’t suddenly implode back into the nothingness we started out from with no warning whatsoever. And I don’t want to implode with no notice. I have an awesome pair of boots I haven’t worn yet, plus I still haven’t watched all the seasons of Lost on DVD.

So what was I forced to learn today? That Pluto is considered the redheaded stepchild of the universe and that if gravity doesn’t stay at the exact level it is, we’re all fucking doomed. The former I don’t give a shit about (and let’s face it…who claims Pluto as their favourite planet? That’s right, no one in the history of ever, that’s who) and the latter gives me an anxiety attack. And to top it off, some kind of information that was likely of vital importance got kicked to the curb to make room for a lame-ass hunk of space rock and the worry that falling off the face of the earth could be a reality instead of just some overused expression. Which is why I should be reviewing and preparing like a responsible adult. Instead of googling DIY sites for magnetic gravity boots.