(no subject)
It's very annoying how my writing teacher says the word complex about 50 times per class. It's at 8 o'clock in the morning. I thought that this would be fine, seeing that i've gone to school at eight o'clock in the morning for most of my life. I was very wrong. I wake up at six thirty, I try to make myself look presentable, and I walk outside to swarms of wall street business...people. Power Suits, Power Ties, and Power Lunch carts. There's so much money around me right now, and yet, i have none. I'm the eye of the money hurricane. I walk to the 2 3 express train on the red line. I whistle to stay awake. I get on the train. "Stand clear of the closing doors please." Chambers Street, Park Place, 14th Street. I get off. I walk three blocks to school. The smells are strong enough to knock me down. I pull it together and walk into class. My teacher starts off the class with a complex discussion about the complexities of making a complex arguement. Her name is Andrea... not Aandrea, but AUN-DrEEAA. How complex. I fall asleep and have a complex dream about shooting myself in the face.
College is just like high school. It's better, but everyone still thinks they're smarter than everyone else. They become especially convinced when they learn to say the word complex every other second. At least my roommate makes cupcakes. I love her.
Um, hey Worcester, give me a kiss/comment. Love you.
College is just like high school. It's better, but everyone still thinks they're smarter than everyone else. They become especially convinced when they learn to say the word complex every other second. At least my roommate makes cupcakes. I love her.
Um, hey Worcester, give me a kiss/comment. Love you.