I stared mournfully at the computer for a moment at about 9:50 this morning, wanting very much to make a journal entry, yet knowing I had to be gone by 10am. But now, at last, I am back with you dear, sweet journal.
*scene of Setsuled having sloppy fervent caresses and French-kisses with a giant caricature of a journal-book slowly waving giant Mickey-mouse gloved hands in the air*
I don't mind getting up early that much. It's just that the past several days, I've had to get up each day for completely different, almost entirely unpredicted reasons. My life's beginning to feel like a garbled television station, or at the very least, like a big tangled ball of yarn. I'll admit, though, it's a little exciting, like riding a thoroughbred.
Another day where I had to skip shaving in the morning--much to my dislike--I went immediately to the mall, to sit down at The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf.
I had an Espresso Mocha Scone with a Tropical Passion Tea Latté, which was a pleasant switch-a-roo of sorts. Meanwhile, I was reading a comic book entitled Ghost World, which was to be my worthy companion throughout the day.
I wonder what sort of homework I'm supposed to be doing now? I think I'll save that lil' prompter for later . . .
Paid for two more classes to-day, which is snazzy, because now I've three English classes in the same room, good ol' room 584. Any faculties members reviewing my schedule might think I'm either casing the joint for occult purposes, or I've attached a Maternal Womb of Comfort quality to it in my mind.
I'm not alone though--Trisa basks in the same amniotic fluid for two of these classes . . .
The one she does not join me for is the one I began last night, which I would have written about here if I hadn't spent the evening offering my dubious council to Cryptess.
It seems as if it shall be a fun class, although I dislike the teacher's fundamental lack of a sense for chaos. She actually wishes us to censor our works. What a moron.
So therefore I've decided to make it my mission to utterly and completely offend her with my stories while still remaining technically within her censorship parameters--I wanna offend her core mortally, while at the same time forcing her to not want to admit being offending.
I shall enjoy this muchly, methinks.