lessons on being overtired

so, i’ve been away for a few days at a conference in melbourne town.  for work.  it was great, really inspiring, lots of great speakers and great ideas and people who share my values and want to work towards the same ideals i do.  that sort of shit really makes me happy.  it is also really exhausting and after day two i was significantly so.  anyway, on the second night i had to go back to my hotel to skype my university lecturer.  i’m doing neuropsych at the moment and it’s really fucking hard and i needed some h.e.lp.  so, my overtired brain sets up skype and video calls said lecturer with all my notes and questions surrounding me.

 now, i’ve only used skype a handful of times, i’m not exactly a pro, but i mean, there’s really not that much to it, right?

  so, my lecturer answers the call but without video.  so instead i can see the little picture of me moving around doing shit, and a static stock photo representing my lecturer.  i quickly assess that he doesn’t have a camera and cannot see me.  so we start chatting.  i’m mostly listening to him explain things to me.  i am mostly not really understanding.  while i’m not understanding i am also checking my image out on the screen.  i’m playing with my eyebrows.  i’m leaning forward to see what that mark on my face is.  i’m pulling faces and shaking my head in frustration when my lecturer says things that don’t make any sense.  and i’m nodding my head and making a ‘move on’ motion with my hands when he talks too slow.  but mostly my over vain, absentminded, tired brain is checking itself out on screen, examining wrinkles, fixing my hair up and down, up and down, looking at my profile this way and that in a very absentminded, nonchalant sort of way.

 after about 20 or so minutes of this the internet connection starts failing.  we can’t hear each other, it’s all starting to get scrambled.  so, in attempt to save it i turn off the video thinking that this might speed up the connection or something.  as soon as the video snaps off, my lecturer says


‘now i can’t see you’.




are. you. fucking. serious.

he could see me for that whole 20 minutes of me doing god knows what else that i can’t even remember.

i am mortified.  and i have to continue talking to him for another 20 minutes as i pretend that nothing is wrong but really i can’t listen to anything he is saying because my body temperature has just shot through the roof and i’m trying to replay our entire exchange to try to figure out exactly how much of an idiot i have made of myself.

turns out it was a fair bit.

there’s nothing i can do to save that exchange.  i’m just gonna have to live with it.  and see my lecturer at residential school in a few weeks.  and deny that we’ve ever spoken. 



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