Did you know that dragonflies (dragonflys?) fly around while having sex? I didn’t. Well, I didn’t before. I do now. I guess it stands to reason, what with those weird red bugs that fly around and don’t even have the decency to look at each other during. But these are dragonflies! (Dragonflys?). They have two sets of wings! I don’t know how that’s relevant, but it looked pretty awkward.
I guess these are the kinds of things you notice while at the gym- being on the treadmill or the cross trainer or something like that. I mean, if you’re running on the spot while standing on an expensive machine whose job it is to tell you that you’ve run four laps of an athletics ground and have burned off about 3% of a Big Mac, you generally amuse yourself by looking out the window. Because watching the countdown timer gets boring. Really quickly. So it’s invertebrates getting it on, or strangely dressed people, or perhaps somebody doing a 145-point turn to get out of the carpark near Union House (it’s pretty squishy).
After my one and only class for the day (a Policy lecture in which we were warned that public servants, especially those working for DFAT, have to be prepared for quite intrusive background checks… eeek!), I headed home. A rather uneventful trip, until this fellow got on at Westgarth station. He looked a bit like Pete from 30 Rock and I could tell that he wasn’t quite all there. I think you get quite good at it after riding Melbourne’s public transport for several years, and that perhaps this ridership should qualify one for a Psychology degree. Anyway, so he started mumbling to himself. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not by my standards. At least he wasn’t accusing people of plotting to kill him. But then it became evident that he wasn’t muttering just to himself, or to voices in his head, but was actually having a full-on argument with himself. By that I mean that switched between what I assumed to be his normal voice and a higher-pitched woman’s voice, and even had two personalities complete with separate emotions and facial expressions. Somewhat disturbing.
So what’s Photo of the Day? Not that guy. I doubt it would make a good photo from halfway down the carriage, and I wouldn’t really want to get any closer to him. And I didn’t have my camera, anyway. So it’s another one of those days when I get to about 9pm and realise I need a photo. Of course, by then it’s dark and there’s nothing interesting to take. I couldn’t really take a photo of the assignment I was working on (well, I could, but it would look remarkably like a Word document), so I did the next best thing: what can generously be called my “workspace”. It also doubles as a bed and a dining table, but I sort of scrapped the latter after that time some chocolate melted onto my bedsheets and I didn’t realise until it was too late and then I panicked because I thought it was poo.
Lessons learned today: Don’t eat chocolate on your bed, dissociative personality disorder is scary and if you are a dragonfly, don’t copulate while flying around. You look silly.