Friday, 6 February 2009

You’re not going to believe this:

I love SPSS.

I’ve just scratched the surface, but if this were a man, I’d definitely be airing out my tiny black dress. He and I have a lot of very seductive dancing coming up.

Flowing from this, three observations about self:

a.) Self is incapable of liking anything. I either love it or nothing.

b.) Love is a necessary catalyst for work. I had to fall in love with SPSS, or my data analysis wouldn’t have gotten done. If you don’t believe me, consider the fact that it’s already 4 months late – all this time, I’ve been trying to get started. I have no doubt that it would’ve come to a choice between ‘Do this thing whether you like it or not’ or ‘Fail your PhD’. I would have gritted my teeth and allowed the latter to just happen. Lame? Perhaps. But it’s in my blood: No love for what you are supposed to do for 12 hours of each day? No can do it.

c.) Erotic love is the only kind. I have to make everything tactile. It’s all about how SPSS clicks and how smooth the curves are (and oh baby, they’re smooth) and how it gets under my skin so I dream of it. Anything less than a full-fledged falling is just not possible. The landscape of my destiny is pitted with cliff-edges, all leading headlong into rapture.

No, I can’t quit the drama and just work. If you want me to, take your dirty paws off my blog at once.

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