(no subject)
Just got home from several hours of Grateful Dead research at the library with Steve. We've got a presentation on Thursday in English and we're screwed. It felt good to actually get stuff done though. I'm somewhat motivated to put together something good because I actually LIKE the Dead, as opposed to anything else I've studied all year. I'm not, however, looking forward to the all-nighter I'm going to have to pull tomorrow to write a presentation outline. The only thing that keeps me going now is that I'm soo close to never having to be a junior ever again.
Tony and Ryan were working at the library while I was there, and I was amused, because they do even less work than I do during a shift. I have to laugh at the fact that we actually get paid to stand around and talk to each other and flip through the books instead of shelving them. The adolescent work force's bad rep is well deserved.
Before my not-so-fun couple of hours bent over rock 'n roll history books, I laid around all day blasting music since no one was home. I doubt I got dressed any earlier than 4 o'clock. I felt so lazy. Everyone was out to lunch or shopping or doing homework as I laid there with Jimi and Zeppelin and Pearl Jam at full volume. Then again, we all need a day to sit on our asses once in a while. Too bad my life thus far has consisted of me sitting on my ass and entirely lacking productivity.
I enjoy how my current mood is listed as 'working' and the majority of what I just wrote is about laziness. Riiight.
Still on a quest for a nice normal boy who will have me despite my striking resemblance to a bag lady... constantly wearing what I slept in the night before, and being generally insane. I've learned that a guy doesn't have to be a jerk to have a complex and interesting personality. So I have no problem with nice guys. And I've learned that a guy doesn't have to have basketcase issues rivaling mine to relate to and understand me. So I have no problem with normal guys. My days of being drawn only to assholes with mental illnesses are over. Yet, one problem still remains. Now that I want them, will any of them want me?? Doubtful.
Before I go to bed, I have to read 11 chapters of The Grapes of Wrath. 150 pages of depressing social commentary... hoo haa!! *Jumps for joy*. Not that Steinbeck isn't my bitch. But, I must say, all that small print isn't very appealing at the moment. As usual... I'd rather be drunk, asleep, or in the process of being deflowered.
I'm reading what I just wrote. Hmmm. I'm massively fucked up.
Tony and Ryan were working at the library while I was there, and I was amused, because they do even less work than I do during a shift. I have to laugh at the fact that we actually get paid to stand around and talk to each other and flip through the books instead of shelving them. The adolescent work force's bad rep is well deserved.
Before my not-so-fun couple of hours bent over rock 'n roll history books, I laid around all day blasting music since no one was home. I doubt I got dressed any earlier than 4 o'clock. I felt so lazy. Everyone was out to lunch or shopping or doing homework as I laid there with Jimi and Zeppelin and Pearl Jam at full volume. Then again, we all need a day to sit on our asses once in a while. Too bad my life thus far has consisted of me sitting on my ass and entirely lacking productivity.
I enjoy how my current mood is listed as 'working' and the majority of what I just wrote is about laziness. Riiight.
Still on a quest for a nice normal boy who will have me despite my striking resemblance to a bag lady... constantly wearing what I slept in the night before, and being generally insane. I've learned that a guy doesn't have to be a jerk to have a complex and interesting personality. So I have no problem with nice guys. And I've learned that a guy doesn't have to have basketcase issues rivaling mine to relate to and understand me. So I have no problem with normal guys. My days of being drawn only to assholes with mental illnesses are over. Yet, one problem still remains. Now that I want them, will any of them want me?? Doubtful.
Before I go to bed, I have to read 11 chapters of The Grapes of Wrath. 150 pages of depressing social commentary... hoo haa!! *Jumps for joy*. Not that Steinbeck isn't my bitch. But, I must say, all that small print isn't very appealing at the moment. As usual... I'd rather be drunk, asleep, or in the process of being deflowered.
I'm reading what I just wrote. Hmmm. I'm massively fucked up.