Despertar

adaptation

The people upstairs are building nine million nails' worth of furniture and have been hammering all day. The people next door just bought a parakeet who thinks he's a rooster.

It's too cold to walk to school these days, but driving, paying for gas and parking, et cetera, would be retardedly wasteful. My Corporations class is impossible to decipher for anyone without a business degree. I don't have a business degree.

I don't have the right shoes for any occasion. I still love my Chiang boots, but walking in them for more than two blocks becomes uncomfortable. Justin has seen all my good date outfits.

I need two to three new pairs of jeans, but I'm too poor to go splurge at Express, and no other jeans would be worth it. I haven't gotten my loan refund check yet, so I might need to take my mom up on her offer to pay my February rent as a birthday present, but if I do, I'll feel bad if I don't go home to see her this Sunday. I don't really want to go home to see her on Sunday.

My bed isn't made. My desk chair is tipped over. My closet door and all my dresser drawers are half open. I don't have a clean bath towel right now.

On top of it all, I still don't have a maid, a secretary or a personal academic coach. I forgot to buy shredded cheese yesterday. And I want a cookie.