Sanity, addiction...

This bread making business is ruining my life. I repeat it is RUINING MY LIFE. Okay I am a bit pissed from having drunk half a bottle of cheap port ... why? Cos I'd been waiting for the bleeding bread to proof and to bake and all that.

Yesterday had been busy. I taught from 11 till 1pm, then dash off to that other university to fulfill my duties as external examiner for a really piss poor piece of M Phil thesis, then had another meeting at the same uni which lasted till quarter to seven, then had dinner with my old pal from my postgrad days of all-you-can-drink cocktail hours....

Met a very interesting woman again. Actually I've had lunch with her once before with my friend A. She's quite a character in local academia, in her field, in particular. It is reassuring to know that such people do exist, that I am not the only person in HK's academic circles who is, you know, like this. She was recounting stories about arseholes (reviewers for articles she submitted to journals) who FORCED her literally to read and include their work in her papers (this is not uncommon but this particular arsehole asked her to include not one not two but EIGHT of his own papers in her article). I said it is like a kind of forced penetration innit? it's rape! and we both laughed, not that it is really that hilarious but it is funny in the sense that if you don't choose to laugh about it, this kind of thing can really do your head in if you take it too seriously.

Luckily, for me and for her, getting published is not the be all and end all. Thank God for that.

Anyhow, so tonight, I thought I'd make a change and do a brioche type bread instead. Sugar, butter, eggs, cinnamon, raisins... two loaves with chocolate fillings... anyhow.... I'm tell ya. Don't fucking do it. Don't even start and go "oh that sounds like fun I'll have a go!~~~~ domestic goddess ooooh oooooooh.... how lovely ... yes darling..... yes that's a fabulous loaf you got therrrre oh do tell me how you do it! I must absolutely MUST so very come over some time and you MUST show me cos this homemade bread business is just soooooo tasty and so wonderfully fantastic and all that!"

Don't do it. It's like fuckin crack cocaine (For the record, I've never smoked crack... yet... so I'm just like, ya know, sayin like...) once you start you are hooooooooooked! Imagine being a slave. Only that you've become a slave to what flour and yeast and a bit of water plus a pinch of salt can do to you.

Well it's done now, and here's what they look like, plus the twins with caraway seeds that I made a few nights ago:








I'm drunk. I need to wee and I need to lie down.