When's Christmas Break Again?

I tell you what, the combination of boredom and stress can take the mind on odd journeys.  Case in point:  Tuesday's review for my Wednesday morning accounting final.  I feel like I am woefully unprepared for this final, yet I'm bored out of my mind watching the professor work through problems on the board.  A thought out of nowhere strikes like lightning, "He's Australian."  From there, it's a prairie fire of thought association spreading across the wasteland of gray matter residing behind my eyes. 

Australia is hot, probably at least as hot as Phoenix in some places. 
Most of it is a big desert, I think.
What's their water situation like there?  Is it sufficient for sustainable growth?
What are their natural resources?
(OIL?)
 Mel Gibson is from there.  (The Jews never had to cross a wasteland like that.  Is that why he feels so superior to them?)
Wait a minute.  Mel Gibson.  Mad Max.  That's where Mad Max was filmed.  Of course they have oil, if the movies said so.  That's what Lord Humungus was after.
 All roads lead to Humungus.

In the end, I found myself sizing up my professor according to how well-suited he was for the apocalypse.  "Sure he can tell you where your missing Accounts Receivable went, and he probably could advise you on how to reduce your days payable.  But in hand-to-hand combat, those arms will be ripped right out of their sockets.  As soon as he's out of ammunition, he'll have to fight.  Then he's dog meat." 

Yeesh.  I like to think that boredom without the stress would have taken me on a more magical journey involving flying carpets and a big blue genie and a princess in a halter top.  Maybe Thursday, it'll be a whole new world.