I would like to preface this post by informing you that I have Seven Swans by Sufjan Stevens in my head. This is kind of annoying because it is in fact the last bit of the song that is in my head. The bit that repeats “Seven Swans” ad infinitum. On the other hand, it’s kind of good for my indie cred, which has been a low lately, what with me not being dangerously underweight nor buying $500+ clothes that look like they belong in an op shop.
And indie cred is good because it gives you the right to call anything ironic, without the need to justify why said thing is ironic, why irony is even relevant and whether or not you even know what the word “irony” means. Which you don’t. And that is ironic. Which is, itself, ironic. How recursive.
So, for example, I could say that Today’s Photo of my hand is ironic. Totally. I don’t know why, but apparently contemporary convention states that I can get away with such a ridiculous and unfounded statement.
But now to change the topic (before people think too much about what I have said and how little it makes sense). I woke to an email from an English teacher from my high school, asking whether I would be interested in taking on a student she could no longer tutor. Long story short, a new student. Win.
But before that, I went into uni for an entire hour, driving as I could not be bothered with public transport given my level of coughing all the time. And then after that (tutoring) that is, I watched the last Gruen Nation and Yes We Canberra. Sniff. The election has come so quickly…