I don't like Mondays [NWS]
I fell asleep on the sofa Sunday night, which is never good. I have a bad habit, lately, of sleeping in very uncomfortable situations. This morning I woke to drool, the sofa's upholstery pattern pressed into one side of my face, and a cramp in my hand -- I was clutching the phone when I drifted off. I guess I thought maybe Jayne might call.
The more I think about Homecoming, the more embarrassed I feel. I practically threw myself at Jayne, and I suppose I should thank him for showing slightly more restraint. Or maybe the only reason we didn't completely seal the deal was how sloppy drunk I was.
So. Not. Sexy.
I think I passed out on him towards the very end, because one of the last things I remember was tugging my dress over my head and tossing it across the room before pulling him down on top of me. When I woke up very early on Saturday, I was wearing one of his t-shirts and very little else. I had to practically crawl over Bagoas to get my dress back.
I feel guilty. The dress deserved way better than it got. I'm hoping that there's a dry cleaner's somewhere in Fandom that can get out that huge punch stain, and fix that zipper. I mean, it was about ripped out. I'll never be able to look Ms. Gilmore-Danes in the face.
Journalism class was basically cancelled, so I zipped out of there after signing the roster, poked my head into Marty's press conference, and then headed back here to my dorm room. I might venture out later if I get sick of daytime television. Or if I get hungry.
ETA: I've been thinking about signing up for Shop Class. Because, yeah... easy A, right?
The more I think about Homecoming, the more embarrassed I feel. I practically threw myself at Jayne, and I suppose I should thank him for showing slightly more restraint. Or maybe the only reason we didn't completely seal the deal was how sloppy drunk I was.
So. Not. Sexy.
I think I passed out on him towards the very end, because one of the last things I remember was tugging my dress over my head and tossing it across the room before pulling him down on top of me. When I woke up very early on Saturday, I was wearing one of his t-shirts and very little else. I had to practically crawl over Bagoas to get my dress back.
I feel guilty. The dress deserved way better than it got. I'm hoping that there's a dry cleaner's somewhere in Fandom that can get out that huge punch stain, and fix that zipper. I mean, it was about ripped out. I'll never be able to look Ms. Gilmore-Danes in the face.
Journalism class was basically cancelled, so I zipped out of there after signing the roster, poked my head into Marty's press conference, and then headed back here to my dorm room. I might venture out later if I get sick of daytime television. Or if I get hungry.
ETA: I've been thinking about signing up for Shop Class. Because, yeah... easy A, right?