I hate iterating over things manually. Whenever I see iteration, I want to make something else do it for me. I don't want to experience it. I get bored too quickly. This is a good characteristic for a programmer, and is related to two of the three virtues of Perl Programmers, laziness and impatience. When I do iterate, I always do maybe two or three, and then think to myself, "alright, pick up here". It's a directed thought. But it's not to anyone. Strange.
I've been playing lots of gamecube recently. Mainly Smash Brothers Melee. It's a fun game. I wish I had someone to play it with. I wish I wern't alone, and living near some people I enjoy the company of. I've been having more dreams of my ideal home. I'm sure I've described it before here. If I make it an obsession, will it serve me as a dream? I want it I want it I want it. Someday, should I ever manage to get the money to have it built for me, I can just imagine running my hand along the rails in the hub platform, thinking back to this day. I feel comfortable with my things, moving them into it, making it mine. The darkness, the openness, it is like a dark hill in twilight. Vivid thoughts. I must draw it, model it, make it at least a bit more real than it is. So much of my philosophy is like that. When I am dead, my recordings will be all that is left of my functional thoughts. I must produce.
I've been helping housemate Jeff put together a new computer. The problem with buying the CPU, motherboard, and case seperately is that you know people didn't test them. After spending a lot of time on the silly thing, it turned out the CPU fan wasn't doing its job well enough, and the CPU became busted shortly after I got the thing to work (the clear-cmos jumper was only partly on as shipped, causing me much irritation until I noticed). Tomorrow we go back to the computer place and hope they'll replace the fan and CPU. I had today off. At work, I no longer have weekends. I have tuesdays and fridays off. I guess I don't mind. It's not like I have anywhere better to spend my time.
What did my mother's intent to comment on housing do to me? It brought my search for a place to live to a standstill. I'm unsure again. I was so sure that I wanted that half-duplex, and now I don't know anymore. I'm thinking about finding a small unused warehouse again, or something like that. I am unhappy here, but now I'm also not sure what I want to do. Indecision. Not a good thing. I guess I wish I knew better how to find a place that I'd like. It must be big, it must be vaguely near campus, and it must provide a fairly easy way to 71 (so I can get to work). I just don't know how to look for something like that. Reminds me of a good Satre book -- search for a method. I need a method. Why do I find the abstract simple, and the concrete difficult?