Another semester is racing toward its finale, and I am nothing if not a sickening mix of stressed and excited.
I refuse to make any predictions about the summertime, because I don't want to be disappointed. I think that I will be happy, and it will be enough. And really, everything else like work and traveling and whatever is uninvolved and only of mild importance.
My body bends. I'm having trouble typing since this is what I've been doing for the last five (six?) hours.
I have entry upon entry plotted out in my head, and yet when I grab these moments in both hands, I can't remember what I wanted to say.
Here is the next week--
Friday: paper due at 5. workout???
Saturday: errands in town -> British History final, 2-5 -> drive to Williamsburg, return with E.
Sunday: class? -> whatever
Monday: edit French papers, prep for Enlt review session -> class
Tuesday: Enlt review session, 12noon (?) -> sell textbooks back -> class
Wednesday: turn in two French papers -> move out of dorms
Thursday: Enlt final, 2-5pm -> class
Friday (workout) or Saturday -> move into Sophi's room
I'm just going to go now.
listening to : Tegan and Sara
reading : feministing.com
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