(no subject)
David Bilmas, only you would incriminate yourself of standing me up by ringing up to invite me somewhere else!
In other news, I managed to complete one project for Final Week. Only four more to go! I made a tubular schedule last night to inspire and document my daily progress through Sunday night. But alas, this delay was due to technical difficulties. However, I assure you time was not wasted: I did several loads of laundry and even changed my sheets (it is usually a momentous occasion), also been sorting out things in my room but I made the mistake of dumping everything off my desk into a pile on the floor so I could clean my desk (someone tell me how it is normal that the reason I was doing this was a large stain of laundry detergent that appeared next to my lamp?)
Maybe it is because we got a new kettle and I drank too much tea or because I ate too much raw chocolate, but I have a killer headache. I also found a mysterious lump on my forehead that I can only identify as some sort of cancerous growth. Could very well be source of headache, too, no? Maybe it is just a forehead pimple. It might be my face's manifestation of the adolescent nostalgia I smelled as I burnt incense I probably acquired during holiday shopping with Tory Zangen sometime in the late 90's. It is one of those signs of the times that is just a kick in the head.
I am not used to days off during the week. I have to regroup and refocus so I don't lose Saturday and Sunday studying time, though. I had to call in to work and say I'm dying while pinching my nose ever so slightly (Amateur mistakes behind me) so I can get really drunk and have promiscuous and unprotected sex in celebration of Final Week upon us. Which has come to mean: stay in, drink tea, study, and knit in between subjects. Nearly-21 is the new 84 and I love it.
I know it's uncharacteristic of me, but I am going to start writing in this thing more often. I want to document the trivial things because it occurred to me that between April and August of 2004 that I didn't have phone or internet access and only communication with the 2-mile radius of my apartment. Needless to say, I lost a lot of date-event coordination. This was probably due to a conglomeration of the abundance of hard drugs, hard liquor, and good, hard times. All's well that ends well, though. Over a year ago and almost every detail has changed except for two specific things: I still love my dog more than life itself and I still wear the same thing every day (different than then but the same as now, get it?).
As for everything else, I am in love with it all and it is taking time to get used to that.
In other news, I managed to complete one project for Final Week. Only four more to go! I made a tubular schedule last night to inspire and document my daily progress through Sunday night. But alas, this delay was due to technical difficulties. However, I assure you time was not wasted: I did several loads of laundry and even changed my sheets (it is usually a momentous occasion), also been sorting out things in my room but I made the mistake of dumping everything off my desk into a pile on the floor so I could clean my desk (someone tell me how it is normal that the reason I was doing this was a large stain of laundry detergent that appeared next to my lamp?)
Maybe it is because we got a new kettle and I drank too much tea or because I ate too much raw chocolate, but I have a killer headache. I also found a mysterious lump on my forehead that I can only identify as some sort of cancerous growth. Could very well be source of headache, too, no? Maybe it is just a forehead pimple. It might be my face's manifestation of the adolescent nostalgia I smelled as I burnt incense I probably acquired during holiday shopping with Tory Zangen sometime in the late 90's. It is one of those signs of the times that is just a kick in the head.
I am not used to days off during the week. I have to regroup and refocus so I don't lose Saturday and Sunday studying time, though. I had to call in to work and say I'm dying while pinching my nose ever so slightly (Amateur mistakes behind me) so I can get really drunk and have promiscuous and unprotected sex in celebration of Final Week upon us. Which has come to mean: stay in, drink tea, study, and knit in between subjects. Nearly-21 is the new 84 and I love it.
I know it's uncharacteristic of me, but I am going to start writing in this thing more often. I want to document the trivial things because it occurred to me that between April and August of 2004 that I didn't have phone or internet access and only communication with the 2-mile radius of my apartment. Needless to say, I lost a lot of date-event coordination. This was probably due to a conglomeration of the abundance of hard drugs, hard liquor, and good, hard times. All's well that ends well, though. Over a year ago and almost every detail has changed except for two specific things: I still love my dog more than life itself and I still wear the same thing every day (different than then but the same as now, get it?).
As for everything else, I am in love with it all and it is taking time to get used to that.