No. 76: Two Pre-Meds, a Public Health and "a Neo-Luddite"

I'm sitting here noshing half frozen grapes and loving it. They're better this way-- more texture. I smell like No.9's and I have "Welcome to the Jungle" stuck in my head. The previous is how I'm starting my blog. Now for the body.

Today was rough. Rough not in the sense that it was filled with emotional taxation. Just frustration. Having to move my car around is infuriating. Lost my stupid phone, which was returned (the story behind it is pretty good, involving a lot of different people, phone calls and another illustration of how small the world is-- but I won't go into it). At least lunch was great-- Apples Alexander, a cup of leek-potato soup and a side of sesame noodles from Carma's. An episode of Scrubs and a big Spanish-skipping nap formed my luncheon hours. I now, however, feel guilty about skipping Spanish, considering I broke my perfect attendance and there's a test on Wednesday. Ah well.
I have not done the reading for History of Africa and I just do not care. I'll swing the reading from someone for the final or just break down and make the flippin' copies after work on Thursday. I need to quit my job. I love it, and the discount is more than appreciated, but I like having time to do, you know-- anything.
Matt Smith and Brian Platzer read tonight. Both great, although themed in a direction that made me antsy and let my mind wander. It was the last Den reading of the semester. What am I going to do next Monday night? I'll have to actually have to have a good day so as not to need an unwinder.

I want to leave on Monday night anyway. Turns out I have to actually hand in a hard copy of the Africa final, which blows, but I think I'll go home anyway, spend the weekend at the Hop and drive back the following Monday night for reals. God-- it's only 14 days away, the end of this semester. Feels like counting down to victory.
I came back geared to write, told Joe I was going to actually knock out a story, but now I'm sitting here listening to Tori Amos and staring down at my list of things to do tonight and I just don't think I can manage it. I'm glad Natalie decided not to go to the quad lighting.

The highlight of today would have to be finally buying my black cardigan from American Apparel. Harshly overcharged, but the adorable hipster clerk winked at me behind his thick framed glasses and the security guard was sweet and told me to have an excessively good day. No one says things like that any more. Did they ever?

Lately, I find that I've been taking things that should've been momentous or catastrophic
and affecting in a sort of blase manner, and obsessing on things I could just let go. Like-- I spelled "obsessing" with four 's' a second ago and it was infuriating. Performed a huge and stupid mistake a few weeks ago and until last night it didn't bother me at all. Such if life.

I think break could be really wonderful and relaxing. But I've recently been getting this nagging feeling that it could also be seriously angst ridden. Hope not.

H.