(no subject)
Last day at UVM. I have my modern poetry final at 7:40, then I finish packing and get the hell out of here. I've been looking forward to leaving, but I feel strange. I'm excited and hopeful and terrified and even a little sad. I can feel the remnants of food in my stomach stirring, crawling up my esophagus, trying to escape. Each breath is more and more difficult to take.
I hope I don't puke on my professor.
I hope I don't hit another moose on the way home.
I hope I made the right decision.
I know I did. It has to be.
I think...
I need a cigarette.
More later. wish me luck.
I hope I don't puke on my professor.
I hope I don't hit another moose on the way home.
I hope I made the right decision.
I know I did. It has to be.
I think...
I need a cigarette.
More later. wish me luck.