12:17 p.m. - 2004-03-03
from the void
So apparently, I'm not quite out of my shit yet, whatever it may be. Yesterday was a long day...my god, so long. I didn't get to bed until five, then I had to jump out of bed at nine to run to art history and see how badly I fared on the test. What I surely thought to be a F-minus was, in fact, a mid-range C. So, apparently, I am a genius.
I had to frantically read stories for workshop, frantically study for my geo midterm, run errands and, of course, I simply had to socialize inbetween all these activities. I made the mistake of stopping long enough to feel tired, and a twenty minute nap ended up becoming a three hour one. Then I slept another nine hours on top of that. Yum.
If I were in a different kind of position, I would be quitting my fucking job. Since I work at opposite ends of the week, I get this two-day gap between shifts, which affords me the oppurtunity to sleep normally. However, I use it fairly routinely to get laced all day, skip classes, and engage in a stare-down with my ever-growing to-do list. I have a healthy amount of dread toward my little job. But I can't quit, or I won't let myself, both of which are sad to realize.
For the last part, we'll go to a more positive place. I had one of those great moments on Monday. I was leaving the science complex and as I looked up, there he was - just some really hot squaller or other, I don't know his name, but we always notice when the other is around. Definite crush vibe, lying there on the ground like a live wire. There was no chance to look away. So I got to have that secret smile moment, which I love. That which I love less: the weirdly forced 'hi' as if we know one another.
Also, I now have groceries. Frozen mini-pizzas and creme brulee ice cream in the freezer. I finished the entire second season of Six Feet Under in three days. Things are getting better, but not as quickly as I would like. Goals for the day are finding time to work on my story, getting passport-type photos taken for this France thing, going to an ex-prof's house to pick up a letter. Doable.
