Straight No Chaser

Less Is More

and, as such, this is going to be the last entry for a while.

not to make a point or anything, and not a long while. just long enough for me to pull my life back together. long enough to catch up on all this god-forsaken schoolwork: there's another fifteen-pager due monday, a conference with strange later that afternoon, a comparative essay for shakespeare due sometime next week, nineteenth century literature rears its ugly head once again, professor engram's stupid community involvement project, finals to study for. long enough to figure out what to do about marcus: fridays are always terrible but sundays are usually all right, let's keep our fingers crossed. long enough to write something substantial, thereby earning these laurels i've been resting on for so unconscionably long: whatever they say, journal-writing is not good exercise for the mind, it's like doing too many reps of a motion that uses an already-overworked muscle. long enough.

so, maybe a pretty long while. we'll see.

students who come to the writing center have started asking for me by name, stalking my scheduled hours and stuff. this is flattering, i'm really glad i've had such an influence on their academic success, but it does not make me popular among the other tutors. tracey doesn't notice or care because she never does any work anyway, but it seems to really hurt the louisiana girl's feelings. it's really against policy, pretty much; incoming tutees are supposed to sit and wait and take who they get. really we shouldn't have the schedule posted where they can see it, period, because they use it to time their ins and outs. they manipulate us.

the bathroom smells strongly of citrus, which i just discovered is because someone left two or three orange peels down in one of the shower drains.

if i were writing a novel, right about now i'd be experiencing my own quickening. tonight i think we're going out, at chris's behest; if we wind up at the movies, i'm seeing saw again, and not giving a fuck what the rest of those idiots do. and i need a bit of physicality this evening, too.

every time i walk outside now, i'm afraid i'm going to see one of those kittens as roadkill. this is like over the summer, with emile the turtle, except worse, because kittens are adorable little balls of cuteness and fur, and i think i'm about to experience some sort of estrogen surge, so those things hit harder than usual.

if there has ever been a worse entry than this, well, then i apologize for them both. till the dawn comes.