The Spanish Plague

Jan 16, 2004 23:41

Argh. Adam's back. And despite the fact that I have gotten over any and all attraction to him, he can still talk me into doing the crappiest things. This time it's surveying a list of colleges and universities in the South about their Hispanic student populations. I feel like I got hosed. He also just called to "check up" on me and tell me that he has a friend who wants to meet me. He didn't give any reason for this, but told me to meet him tomorrow at some bar in the evening. Ridiculous. He'll probably talk me into teaching little kids English, like he almost did last semester.

I think I killed one of my plants. And I'm taking it really hard. I feel positively awful whenever I look at Simon (my plant). He's a Fraser fir, so I named him after Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat, a high-ranking Jacobite who was executed for treason after the Forty-five (the last man in Britain to be executed by beheading, for all of you trivia buffs). I don't think I have ever felt so guilty about killing a living thing. I didn't feel anything like this when we put down the mice from the study. Funny that a plant can cause so much personal anguish.

Somebody give me a suggestion for some daily activity for me to pass the time. Handicrafts have lost their appeal and I'm not sure I want to waste all day tomorrow reading over my Calc II notes. I'm desperate people! Basket weaving is looking good. As is mailbox baseball. Too bad I'm only one person.

Apologies for such a crap entry. Don't even honor it with comments. I don't deserve them.
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