I don't know what this blog post is going to be about. The title comes from something I said a few days ago when a friend from home asked me, online, how my cats were doing. I'm presuming the happy part, obviously, since we don't know if cats know what being happy is.
I spent a lot of time on the phone this week, catching up with various people I haven't had the chance to talk to for a while. Between Skype Monthly and Viber, it hardly costs anything to call Singapore, which is a far cry from what international call charges were like when I was an undergraduate. If that were the only good the internet brought us, it would be good enough.
But it isn't, of course. There's been Wikileaks, and the organising of student fee protests, and the University for Strategic Optimism, and engineering a friend's birthday gift from afar, and other heady, heady things, swirling on- and offline. Part of my brain is ready to shut down: It's Christmas! It's the holidays! (Been nibbling on Christmas cookies and bumping into Christmas carolers around town.) But there's still so much going on.
In other news, I'm back to living alone for a few weeks; my flatmate's gone home for the holidays. Last night I suddenly wondered what would happen if I *knock on wood* slipped and fell in the shower. No cats here to walk around my unconscious body and meow piteously (for food, not for me).
Hm ... this entry sounds less happy than I am.