murderous rampage? too much effort?
dear loving friends who think i should quit smoking,
i forgot my cigarettes this morning. they remain on the kitchen table. it's nearly 11 a.m. and i've had no cigs today. i have yet to pay attention or accomplish anything. i'm starving, and if this woman, the worst writing teacher i have ever sat through in my life, asks me any questions about the assignment i didn't read, i may well take the opportunity to ask her in what fashion we're to learn to write a brief from this nonsense. we can read. this is not a critical reading class. making us read for weeks and then commanding us to write a brief is only going to elicit amazing drivel.
due to insufficient chemical stimulation, i am semi-conscious and profoundly annoyed at everyone who speaks to me as though i should be a sociable human today.
oh, and i'm about to digest my spleen. and i can't go home for lunch b/c i have an appointment with the writing lady at noon, to change my paper into a writing sample and get some feedback by someone who isn't my miserable professor. and i have play practice tonight and they want us to wear our red shirts for pictures, which means i'm wearing a dirty smelly shirt because it's spent the week in the laundry basket with the other dirty clothes. with any luck, i'll have time to do laundry tomorrow.
and i don't suppose i can go out tonight because i managed to skip part of the certification test for the tax program i'm volunteering with this spring. so i have to do that. garh.
all i really want in life is a nap. why is this so much to ask?
lurve,
me
i forgot my cigarettes this morning. they remain on the kitchen table. it's nearly 11 a.m. and i've had no cigs today. i have yet to pay attention or accomplish anything. i'm starving, and if this woman, the worst writing teacher i have ever sat through in my life, asks me any questions about the assignment i didn't read, i may well take the opportunity to ask her in what fashion we're to learn to write a brief from this nonsense. we can read. this is not a critical reading class. making us read for weeks and then commanding us to write a brief is only going to elicit amazing drivel.
due to insufficient chemical stimulation, i am semi-conscious and profoundly annoyed at everyone who speaks to me as though i should be a sociable human today.
oh, and i'm about to digest my spleen. and i can't go home for lunch b/c i have an appointment with the writing lady at noon, to change my paper into a writing sample and get some feedback by someone who isn't my miserable professor. and i have play practice tonight and they want us to wear our red shirts for pictures, which means i'm wearing a dirty smelly shirt because it's spent the week in the laundry basket with the other dirty clothes. with any luck, i'll have time to do laundry tomorrow.
and i don't suppose i can go out tonight because i managed to skip part of the certification test for the tax program i'm volunteering with this spring. so i have to do that. garh.
all i really want in life is a nap. why is this so much to ask?
lurve,
me