Written at James' house on Monday afternoonI'm at James' place, and I have an essay due tomorrow that I haven't started yet. So I'm going to type it up here.
How exactly do people manage having a social life and going to school? Where does the fucking-about-doing-nothing time go? Do I have to give that up? I cherish that time.
So I'm writing in here because I'm hoping it will get my writing juices flowing so I can do my essay. James is next to me at the computer and doesn't know I'm writing in my journal and not working on my essay yet. D'oh.
I think I need more coffee. They make it weak at his place.
Oh, James just offered to make more. What a sweetie. I just told him I was writing a journal entry to kick-start my brain. He didn't scold me. Whew.
James' dog, Roman, has a plastic cone around his head to prevent him from licking his infected area (you don't want to know the details). He looks so cute with his cone. Poor dog.
(A picture I scribbled into my journal.)
Ben says university will kill me because I procrastinate and then flip out at the last minute. I feel doomed. I wish someone would just give me billions of dollars so I'd never have to worry about what I was doing with my future again.
Ah, coffee's here. Mmm.
Written on the subway last night at 9:20 pm
I just left a subway car because there was some horrible gangly-legged insect flying around in there. I caught the next train. Good thing they come every couple of minutes, eh?
I'm writing because it's a long ride without my discman, and I want to distract myself from the hunger pangs I'm experiencing. I just left class ... I didn't feel like returning after the 15-minute break. We were discussing a novel I haven't finished yet, and for some reason I seem to have trouble sitting through 3 whole hours of listening to writing tips I personally don't need. I didn't even buy the writing reference tutorial book thingy we're supposed to be using, and I'm getting A's on my essays with very minimal effort. Though I guess it's possible I'm too cocky and will wind up screwing myself over. We shall see.
My nose piercing is really not healing well. James keeps looking at it with concern in his eyes, which isn't altogether comforting. I think I'll give it another 2 weeks, and if it hasn't improved, I'll head back to New Tribe and have them remove it. A piercing isn't hip unless it's pus, blood, & crust-free. Then maybe I'll get another piercing instead ... probably my eyebrow, as I'm told I'd suit it, and I'm not sure I'd enjoy having any sort of mouth-related piercing.
In other news, I kind of miss my infrared hair. What I will do about that, I've yet to decide.
This subway is making my writing damn near indecipherable. Why can't I just beam myself home?
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