So I'm back in the saddle again (you can't use strikethrough in titles)(SOMEONE SET US UP THE BOMB).
ACTUALLY I am just back at the dorm. In college. My college dorm. Which is, somewhat endearingly (if you're nice--probably something like "pathetic," if you aren't), roughly two miles from my house. I've got a full scholarship and my mother and I were about at the relationship level of eternally clashing (sort of) that meant either I could leave or I could spend all my time screaming into a pillow, and I picked the first one, because I also like speaking on occasion. The first word of this was capitalized for emphasis, and not at all because I didn't realize capslock was on until after I'd already typed it and the inertia had set in for the rest of the sentence.
My mother's my best friend. I'm a bit hard on my best friends (sorry).
Anyway. I'm mostly unpacked. The things left to do are those finicky obnoxious ones, like organizing the desk and making sure I actually still have a supply of looseleaf and, um, washing the dishes I left here over the break. The less said about that is probably better. They were, however, very thoroughly rinsed; I assume anything plague-bearing can't do me any harm I won't welcome on some level that really doesn't want to get up by seven o'clock Tuesday morning, so. Oh well.
An interesting thing about this university is that the move-in date (at least, the day the dorms open) is about five days before any of the food places that accept meal transfers open. Meal plans don't kick in until the second date, either. I've got plain yogurt, peanuts, honey, tortillas, ramen, and a tenacious personality. And I moved in at what was more or less the second-to-last possible minute. And I'M A SURVIVOR, I'M ON A MISSION, LYRICS LYRICS LYRICS, LA LA LA LA LA.
And now I'm tired, and, as they say on Tumblr, this has been a post. Hugs for you all; you're all beautiful. Even ze orchestra is beautiful. Even I'm beautiful, but that, my children, is called cannibalism and is in fact what happens when you drink lots of coffee and decide sleep is more or less for suckers several days in a row. YAAAAY.
My mother's my best friend. I'm a bit hard on my best friends (sorry).
Anyway. I'm mostly unpacked. The things left to do are those finicky obnoxious ones, like organizing the desk and making sure I actually still have a supply of looseleaf and, um, washing the dishes I left here over the break. The less said about that is probably better. They were, however, very thoroughly rinsed; I assume anything plague-bearing can't do me any harm I won't welcome on some level that really doesn't want to get up by seven o'clock Tuesday morning, so. Oh well.
An interesting thing about this university is that the move-in date (at least, the day the dorms open) is about five days before any of the food places that accept meal transfers open. Meal plans don't kick in until the second date, either. I've got plain yogurt, peanuts, honey, tortillas, ramen, and a tenacious personality. And I moved in at what was more or less the second-to-last possible minute. And I'M A SURVIVOR, I'M ON A MISSION, LYRICS LYRICS LYRICS, LA LA LA LA LA.
And now I'm tired, and, as they say on Tumblr, this has been a post. Hugs for you all; you're all beautiful. Even ze orchestra is beautiful. Even I'm beautiful, but that, my children, is called cannibalism and is in fact what happens when you drink lots of coffee and decide sleep is more or less for suckers several days in a row. YAAAAY.