morrissey is bugging me again...

what possible thought process could repeatedly lead me down this road? every time i'm grading, at some point i pop in a Smith's album and start listening. and every time, about 45 minutes later, i want to electrocute myself. obviously listening to morrissey isn't good for morale, but somehow i always end up doing it anyway. i have the short term memory of a brain-damaged dog.

anyway, i just wanted to blog for the third time in a few hours to explain my blog title. i was trying to pick something clever today while i was sitting around waiting for my students to finish their library research session, and while i was trying to think of some destructively intelligent and obscure quote from a great piece of literature, i was reading this excellent short essay called "my fake job" by Rodney Rothman. very basically, he decides to just start "working" at this office space-esque workplace without actually applying, proving that he's who he says he is, or anything. just walks in one day, sits down at a computer and pretends to work for a few weeks. anyway, he gets in the building late one night and is just sitting around after everyone else has left and the cleaning lady is sweeping up, "working" on his computer, and he writes of this weird, work-after-work surreality:
"I've always liked offices during the fringe hours, early morning and in the evening. It's liberating to spend peaceful time in a place that's normally frantic. To me, the sound of a night cleaning crew is like a rolling country stream."
This is pretty much the state i spend most of my time in; hanging out in places that at other times of the day, other times of the week, other times of the year, would be crazy with activity, but during times when they're not "in use" are, well, useless...to almost everybody. Anyway, that's where i stole my title from...so now when I'm sitting here at 2am or 6am, sunup or sundown, hammering out tracts about the minutiae of my daily life, at least i can feel cool about it.