It occurs to me that I’m likely the only one taking this this seriously.

The question, then, is why do I bother.

Also there is the question of what’s up with the spacing on this thing?

Does it always look like this? Weird how we only just suddenly notice things sometimes.

I need more Diet Mtn. Dew for this.

I really enjoyed this chapter, but that does not mean I want to sit in class today. Or ever again.

Yay. So excited that it’s insomnia time again. Cool. Cool cool cool.

Is this

I keep thinking this is break week. This is not break week.

It’s so weirdly cold in here.

I can’t listen to this, it’s too scripted.

I hate the way I look lately.

I should submit an abstract. They’ll reject it and then I can say well, at least I attempted it.

Idea farming.

I don’t even know what to do with this.

Just send it to me. Why won’t you just send it to me. It’s not freaking proprietary. What is your damage.

I don’t know what this mood is called, but it’s the kind that will probably get me fired.

unsubscribe. unsubscribe. unsubscribe.

This is a whole lot of circular language to say that a thing is what it is because it is what it is. Which is effing stupid.

Huh. I thought that was last week. I was mistaken.

How long do we think I can get away with ignoring this thing?

I don’t understand people who can drink room temperature water.

That makes no grammatical sense whatsoever and I refuse to do it.

Oh that’s fun.

Who is yelling FFS?

I should buy an apple pie. My fat belly does not need an apple pie. I so love apple pie.

Is it natural or chemically induced? Does it matter? It sucks either way.

Am I taking too many notes or not enough notes?

The sleepier I am, the more the outside thoughts distract.

I wonder if I could pull that look off with my hair. Probably not.

Is it time to run away yet?

Four score and seven years ago …

I’m a fucking ghost over here.

I need to punch the holes.

100 feet off.

towels. wallpaper. paint. sad.

I should just stop trying to straighten my hair at all at this point.

I think I’m not feeling that particular bat sweater this year. It’s not the best color, that’s for sure.

Where are my pumpkin shoes?

Are. You. Kidding. Me.

ROTTEN BANANA BACKPACK