Hot stuff, comin' through...
I don't understand how my hair can possibly grow this fast. I got it cut two weeks ago and it's already too long. I'm also a bit blown away that 3 inches can actually be too long, but it totally is. It's hot! It's Davis summer all of a sudden. We've got all the doors and windows open and fans running, and I'm sweltering and wearing as little clothing as possibly and I swear I'm going to shave my head soon if things don't improve.
Or possibly I'm a little stressed about moving and school and graduation, but I'm sublimating that stress into rants about my hair and the weather. Moving on...
There are a million new Jack/Daniel stories out there today, courtesy of the ficathon. I broke down and read several of them, but I'm going to be strong and not read the rest until I've written both the papers I have due on Thursday. Slavery in Rome and Jane Austen. What a combo.
Before I can get to those papers though I've got to finish my slightly (very) late Comp Lit paper. I had a dream over the weekend in which I finished the essay, and it all made sense. The civilizing influence of women in the Ramayana, Genesis, and Gilgamesh, and the anxiety they embody... it was all there, it was all perfect, and now I can't remember a word of it. My subconscious is a cruel and evil beast. Of course, last night it offered up a dream about a tornado, a bunch of orphans, a broken dishwasher, and the founding fathers holding a meeting in my living room. Make of that what you will.
Gah. Too hot to think. Roasty toasty. My brain is broiling under my hair, like a potato wrapped in tinfoil and tossed into the campfire. Can't even come up with a good simile. Send help!
Or possibly I'm a little stressed about moving and school and graduation, but I'm sublimating that stress into rants about my hair and the weather. Moving on...
There are a million new Jack/Daniel stories out there today, courtesy of the ficathon. I broke down and read several of them, but I'm going to be strong and not read the rest until I've written both the papers I have due on Thursday. Slavery in Rome and Jane Austen. What a combo.
Before I can get to those papers though I've got to finish my slightly (very) late Comp Lit paper. I had a dream over the weekend in which I finished the essay, and it all made sense. The civilizing influence of women in the Ramayana, Genesis, and Gilgamesh, and the anxiety they embody... it was all there, it was all perfect, and now I can't remember a word of it. My subconscious is a cruel and evil beast. Of course, last night it offered up a dream about a tornado, a bunch of orphans, a broken dishwasher, and the founding fathers holding a meeting in my living room. Make of that what you will.
Gah. Too hot to think. Roasty toasty. My brain is broiling under my hair, like a potato wrapped in tinfoil and tossed into the campfire. Can't even come up with a good simile. Send help!