you hear the trio of girls in front of you in management (DOWN with LIEBERMANIA) say:
"i HAVE to see condoleeza, she rocks"
"i think i'm going to wear my pink cashmere skirt..."
choose your own adventure.
anyway i just woke up from having made myself sleep a lot. i feel hot and bothered but i have no excuses for the rest of the weekend. it's so important that by thanksgiving i can say that i'm doing well in school without lying. to whom? for whom? to whoever doesn't care but asks anyway. for my sinking sense of sloth. i just don't want to be everyone who shrugs and says "it's really hard, but i'm getting used to it". rather, "yeah, these papers i wrote are going into the journal of IR and i'm a really nice person, too." stupid bitchery.
* * *
everyone's at upmunc this weekend, but coming back to pick up things, drop off things, go to classes. the survivors among us heard some gossip about ISB '01 people...losing virginity to pre-froshes on huntsman day, coke scales, we seem hella tame in comparison. not even brilliant, to compensate! we're just cleancut kids with lagging work ethics. but still we. i have 22 pages to write by tuesday/wednesday. a cute hooded sweatshirt to buy. a recital to bum through (but with champagne and cheese party afterwards). so, ennervated. going to liberry when my legs start working again.
* * *
internally bruised and i miss intensity and highminded love. agape but i don't have a face for intensity anymore. especially when it's all your little words...
"i HAVE to see condoleeza, she rocks"
"i think i'm going to wear my pink cashmere skirt..."
choose your own adventure.
anyway i just woke up from having made myself sleep a lot. i feel hot and bothered but i have no excuses for the rest of the weekend. it's so important that by thanksgiving i can say that i'm doing well in school without lying. to whom? for whom? to whoever doesn't care but asks anyway. for my sinking sense of sloth. i just don't want to be everyone who shrugs and says "it's really hard, but i'm getting used to it". rather, "yeah, these papers i wrote are going into the journal of IR and i'm a really nice person, too." stupid bitchery.
* * *
everyone's at upmunc this weekend, but coming back to pick up things, drop off things, go to classes. the survivors among us heard some gossip about ISB '01 people...losing virginity to pre-froshes on huntsman day, coke scales, we seem hella tame in comparison. not even brilliant, to compensate! we're just cleancut kids with lagging work ethics. but still we. i have 22 pages to write by tuesday/wednesday. a cute hooded sweatshirt to buy. a recital to bum through (but with champagne and cheese party afterwards). so, ennervated. going to liberry when my legs start working again.
* * *
internally bruised and i miss intensity and highminded love. agape but i don't have a face for intensity anymore. especially when it's all your little words...