1/1
Sleep is so passé.
It’s about two-and-a-half/three hours until my roommate gets home from work. She will be a relative bear when she does arrive. Add together a lack of sleep, a full night’s shift in the busiest part of her workplace, panicked packing (and wrapping), a three hour drive, and a baby shower… I wouldn’t really blame her if she lost it. Just straight up psychotic mode. She’s a trouper, though. The aforementioned baby shower is for one of her closest friends, Alana, and it’s good of her to sacrifice sleep to attend a chorus of cooing. (That said, I bought something for the little darling, as I’m very happy for both Alana and Jon. But monkeys! I love the monkeys and would like an adult-sized version, pleaseandthankyou.)
Tuesday marks one month since I moved. A month goes by stupidly quick, but I think the apartment still sort of has new car smell for me because I spent so long with my mother and my sister. There are some days where I miss the constant familial companionship, but it’s nice doing things for myself. The job search is proving difficult, but I have faith that there is something that will support this schedule of mine.
-Tangent-
I think the adviser I spoke to about the status of my credits, while being very nice and also very Irish (which I will always appreciate), is a little confused as to what I was actually in need of taking. My credits audit says something very different and I am loath to think I am spending a fuckton of money on classes I don’t even need at this point. I’ve got a surplus of electives, really. Then again, I’m mostly confused when I look at the audits page… I just really think I’ve covered most of the things I’m told I need. Ehh. Also, what should my second field be? I am in need of “12 credits of upper division courses in a coherent field of study outside English, approved by adviser.” My reaction to this news was, “…uh huh.”
-End tangent-
Another reason I might not be feeling fully home-like in this new home would probably have something to do with my bedroom still looking like this:
Boxes and couches. I’m not so worried about this, though. I’m one of those people that could sleep in cubbyholes if they could, always choosing a space against the wall instead of at the edge of the bed. The couch there and my boxes at my head and my closet at my feet… it’s sort of like sleeping in a giant room-sized crib. I’m odd, maybe. There must be some sort of psychological reasoning for this as well. It’s just during the day that I wish I had a bed. All in good time.
Man, all of this text and not a lick of substance. I’m praying my writing class will help with this. Is there a class called “Muse and Plot: Writing Shit That Means Something”? Because I’m contemplating Twilight 2.0 at this point. Not even this post title is something from my own head. (Name that song. Winner gets… maybe something. The people who might get it are people I planned to give things to, anyway. Also, still obsessed with this album.)
Earlier, I said I wish I could tweet like Kanye West. It might be time to embrace the Ron Weasley Caps Lock of Rage.
