This one got away from me. I originally planned it on the question of why people (including, often, me) believe the rules are correctly simply by virtue of being the rules. It was inspired by, of all things, an extended discussion of whether the voting practices of a literary award should be changed. Couple that also with an argument over house rules.

Fuck, I don't know. This semester has completely wrecked me, in every sense imaginable. Emotionally, mentally, with regards to friends, family, and all. I'm tired. There's a phrase my grandmother used to use for this feeling: bone-tired. It's not about wanting to sleep. It's about just being sick of it and wanting to get away from it. Being near it grates on you, constantly. It's not a sharp and searing thing; it's a weary, feeling. You're just done with it. Just fucking done.

I'm off to find a dock to sit on.

(Anybody have one handy? I don't actually own a dock)

-- LukeReilly - 30 May 2015