December 01, 2003 :: 11:29 p.m.
31 minutes and counting 'til unconsciousness
It is 11:29 p.m., as you can see if you look at the date stamp for this entry. I will be in bed by midnight, no question. Because I am very literally sick and tired, and 8 and 3/4 hours of uninterrupted sleep sounds like bliss. So, let's get this show on the road - time is, after all, limited.
I went to Drawing this morning despite army of unpleasant symptoms wreaking havoc on my body, only to discover that Professor McFlighty was once again absent, sending in another sub. The fact that this woman has apparently never run across the concept of canceling class annoys me to no end. Seriously, would it really kill us to draw one less naked person? No, it would not. The model today wasn't very interesting anyway, and since my attention was mostly focused on keeping my english muffin down, the drawing that I ended up turning in could properly be called crap. I don't care. I kept getting these burning hot flashes, and dizziness, and my throat is so sore that I wouldn't be surprised if I started coughing up blood flecked with the rubbings of course-grit sandpaper. There is also a feeling of general yuckiness overall, with a perpetually dry mouth and coughing and sneezing and a very bothersome runny nose. Hello, cold season. How I've missed you.
After Drawing, I set off in search of Dr. Milspaw, my anthropology professor. I had intended to tell her that I was feeling like poo left out to gather flies, and as such would not be attending class. But I couldn't find her, so I just went home. I've missed that class more than any other this semester - 3 times counting today - even though it's one of my favorites. Boo. I feel bad about it, too, but I was seriously in no state to contribute anything useful or even focus my eyes properly. So, whatever. I also called in sick to work, because there was no fucking way that I was spending 5 hours dealing with grumpy holiday shoppers while my temperature ran marathons from the North Pole to Sub-Saharan Africa and angry little gnomes ground down the lining of my esophagus. No. Freaking. Way. Jess was the manager on duty, which I was unendingly thankful for. I find her the least intimidating out of the bunch, with Cindy being the one that I'm the most terrified of. She's just scary.
Depending upon how I feel in the morning, I may or may not go to 3D tomorrow. I haven't missed it yet, so if I do it's no big; however, there's also a poetry reading thing happening at HACC around the same time that I really need to attend for credit in Creative Writing. I'm not sure what to make of this situation. I can either go to 3D and skip the reading, go to 3D and leave early to attend the reading, skip 3D and go to the reading, or skip them both and stay in my bed until I am forcibly removed from it, possibly by the Jaws of Life. The only one of these that sounds even remotely appealing is #4, but in all reality I'll probably end up going for #2 or #3. Because my conscience is as large as the entire continent of Asia and as vocal as all of its citizens shouting "BE RESPONSIBLE!" in unison at the top of their lungs. I suck.
Time check: 11:55 p.m.. Yes, I'm slow. I have the attention span of a marijuana-addled bird when it comes to all things online. As such, it's time for me to be off. My fleece pants and fluffy pillows are calling out to me, tugging at my very soul with their siren song of blessed sleep, and I am powerless to resist them. Like chocolate and potato chips. And Godiva ice cream.
Ahem. Goonight, all.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005