It's 12:30 and I've only just finished both of my big college papers due on Monday. One I'm okay with, but the other has been nothing but grief. I know I'm doing it all wrong and screwing it up. I feel like a great big faker throwing out words like "dichotomy" and "aesthetic" and all the time harping back to that fricking thesis.
But it worked out, I think. Honestly I don't really know. It's not like talking to people straight, this academic writing. It's like putting on nice clothes that don't really fit you very well, but that look nice anyway, and people will tell you that the outfit looks nice on you, but they can tell that the buttons don't line up correctly and that your slip is showing under the crooked hem.
So I'm downloading Air on the Winamp to bring back my mellow so I can attempt sleep before work tomorrow. For Frenchies they're pretty good and all, those lads of Air.
On a more positive note: mom has promised me a Starbucks gift card if I achieve straight A's. Well, first she promised me Sawyer's stolen Mercedes, but she wasn't in Hawaii at the time, officer, I swear.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
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