Have you ever had one of those moments where the total absurdity of your current situation just comes straight home to roost?
Because I have. Just now, in fact.
You see, it's Valentine's Day, and, to nobody's great surprise, least of all my own, my entertainment for the evening came to a pair of cans of Bombardier's and wrangling with an essay on the morality of breaking immoral laws. Furthermore, nobody's about in my squat because it's reading week (that's a bit like half term for certain universitary courses) and those that are about are off doing wonderful and intensely hilarious things. And, in a fit of unforgivable clumsiness, I knocked over my tin of beer and the remnants of it spilt all over the floor.
Not to worry, because the dunny's only next door, I'll harvest some bog paper to wipe it up.
So I go and do that, and as I trot back to my room, I notice some bloke from down my corridor's come back with a lady friend and, faces clamped together, are wrestling wit hthe door key to get back into his room. Well, fair enough, 'tis the season to make whoopee, all credit to him.
It's then that the delicious irony of him wrestling to get into his room with a woman at exactly the same moment as me wrestling to get into my room with some Kleenex really hits me. Even though it's not what it looks like.
Ergh.
Oh well, back to Joseph Raz I suppose.
Not that knowing the ins and outs of the theory of the social contract as a moral reason to obey the law will render me any less of a charmless gimboid...