running like the devil just in time.
Tomorrow, come six, I'll be finished with classes at MCAD. Forever.
I feel obligated to write something more cathartic and enlightening, but I really don't feel catharsis or enlightenment. All I feel is a twitchy, caffeinated anxiety for the work left to do and sore as fuck from riding a mechanical bull all night on Friday.
It was just like Urban Cowboy, but with more panty shots and less John Travolta.
Of course, all this work I have to do must fall on such a beautiful Sunday when I just want to listen to Cat Stevens and sun myself and nap. Alackafuckin'day, it's the last race.
I feel obligated to write something more cathartic and enlightening, but I really don't feel catharsis or enlightenment. All I feel is a twitchy, caffeinated anxiety for the work left to do and sore as fuck from riding a mechanical bull all night on Friday.
It was just like Urban Cowboy, but with more panty shots and less John Travolta.
Of course, all this work I have to do must fall on such a beautiful Sunday when I just want to listen to Cat Stevens and sun myself and nap. Alackafuckin'day, it's the last race.