Skipping class, particularly a class in which I'm totally golden, to get other things done isn't a crime. So why do I feel guilty and anxious? Maybe because I'm also skipping class to go shopping. For interview clothes! I have none! That's still considered productive, right? Hmm.
Somewhere in the my-apartment vicinity is a wireless network called Swann's Wireless Way. A Prouster nearby gives me glee, but naming a wireless network after Dead Frenchie's Greatest Hit... well, I guess John and I aren't ones to talk. Ours is called Team Awesome.
Finished ten pages of my thesis rough draft a couple of days hence. Upon turning said pages into my advisors, I promptly rewarded myself with a falafel.
I'm in a very "no patience for Belle and Sebastian, the Cure, the Police or the Wallflowers, so I'd appreciate it if you'd cut that shit out, iPod" sort of mood. Frustrated, one might say. Been listening to this gent, who is also, I'm proud to say, an aquaintance of mine. GAH -- forgot to get BLOW/Of Montreal tickets AGAIN. Verdammt!
No more sauce! February 14 is my (rather appropriate) last day at the dining hall. I'm applying for a techie desk job at the law school -- here's hoping.
Lately, I've felt like I have the emotional spectrum of a fish. Or like I'm on lithium. Restraining emotions doesn't come easily to me, so why have I not been reacting at all to what should, by all accounts, be a very emotional time? I'm just tired. No wonder most posts have been so disjointed.
My grandpa sent me fudge and a candy thermometer.
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1 comment:
A candy thermometer! That is the best present I can think of.
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