It's difficult to maintain a positive mental attitude at work (something which I should be doing the entire time). Almost everything I do is criticised by these two little nay-sayers, or as is said in Latin, subductisupercilicarptores, which is not actually the longest word in Latin, as B.J. points out in his video, "In classical Latin, at least." I have encountered one slightly longer word in medieval Latin. Anyway. Besides these... people, that I must put up with on a daily basis, some things have happened recently which are cause for celebration. However, I have given up celebrating recently (I'm on the wagon). Why? Because when I get inebriated I get little to yet nothing done. I've been working on this essay for the Academy (ancient serpent symbolism). It is a vast subject, and even if I pretend to myself that I have expert knowledge in this area (holding a master's degree in this particular subject), I know full well that I can always go deeper still, especially in terms of the archaeological evidence, numismatic evidence, epigraphic evidence, and indeed scholia and fragments. Even so, being well grounded in the primary (literary) sources gives a classicist more than enough material to work with. I am currently surrounded by a mountain of books, piled high, dragged off the shelves.
Outside of staying stone cold sober for days, weeks on end, there is something else afoot. At work they've persuaded a number of us to work at a festival. Like another young-at-heart bohemian employee (an artist, a painter) that works there (whom I will be sharing a room with at the hotel - complete with swimming pool no less, by all accounts) I jumped at the chance to get away from Captain Bligh and the Lilliputian et al. Even just one day away from these... people is like dwelling in the Isles of the Blest or the Elysian Fields compared to the daily drudge which recalls Hades as described by Lucretius in his De Rerum Natura (3.978-1094): Hell on earth. One can almost see Sisyphus rolling his boulder (like Sean Connery in The Hill), or Tityos having his liver gnawed out by snakes or eagles only to grow back again when Diana's crescent bow waxes full, or Ixion on his flaming wheel, eternally kept alive through the agency of a magical potion.
So, a festival is just what the doctor ordered. Naturally, I intend to get completely and utterly paralytic, making up for lost time, having been on the wagon for so long. Moreover, I intend to get some surfing (well, bodyboarding, done). There is also the question of meeting up with Sue. I had not realised up until about an hour ago that I would be sharing a room with someone. Even so, she may well be in attendance. I should probably stay clear headed (sober) while around her (because in our exchanges I mentioned being on the wagon, and I feel that she does not believe me). Besides, there are other things to do. I will, of course, be taking what I need to continue working on my translation (old school, pen and paper). I don't have a physical copy of my current commission, so I will (probably) be taking my much cherished Biblia Sacra: Vulgata to translate some Psalms on the move (the Psalms in my current commission are quite often identical to the Weber-Gryson critical edition that I own).
We're away for nearly a week, so there should be plenty of down time (only working between 6-8 hours a day). It remains to be seen whether Sue will want to stay long, but we have been... quite close over the past couple of days. She's stressed out because she is in the middle of moving place. Like always, she is studying and working hard. There are not many women I have met that are as studious or as industrious as she is. It is a shame that she works in a menial job doing unskilled labour for minimum wage (despite the fact that she holds a master's degree), but like me, she has to, because this is not Elizabethan England or the days of Cosimo de' Medici in Florence 1463: it's Dark Age Britain, and well, that's what you do with a master's degree in this place, in this day and age.
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