Bland, boring Tuesdays.

I got a huge paper cut from simply digging into my pocket looking for my student ID so I could buy two shitty soft prezels which would end up being my food for today.

And after slashing up my middle finger, the day went pretty much like I felt. Except for the 88% on the Econ test. That was exciting; even tho I got a lot of stupid stuff wrong and I was one question away from an A. Poop.

Everyone has an iPod, and for the record, I hate you all. Even if I had one, I have no idea what I'd listen to. I prefer to listen to the self depricating voices in my head.

Paul is finally back. The notion of never having to take the Magical Metro Ride of Doom for two/four hours is somewhat intimidating. What will I whine about now?

For Conceptions of Self we're required to read the last chapter in one of our professor's book that he nicely photocopied for us. It has to do with blacks and Thomas Jefferson or something, after finishing up possibly the worst book I've ever read, 'Native Son.' Memo To Old Curmudgeon: It's called Conceptions of Self, not Conceptions of Black Selves. I think making a class read a cut of your controversial book is really unprofessional. Clearly anyone who disagrees is going to be at a disadvantage.

I'm feeling weak and sick and miserable, even though I'm not ill. I wish this year could just be overwith. More and more, I'm wishing this lifetime could just get over with.