State of the Union

I guess a B+ in American Frontiers on the midterm isn't the end of life. Now that I know he wants more precision, on the final I can provide those specific dates he wants, and should I do well it's entirely possible to get an A on the final and the other midterm, as well as the eventual paper, and thus an A or A- in the class as a whole. I could have spent less time on the IDs and more time on the essays as well, but I always do that. That'll do, pig. I should go into his office and ask for a smidge of extra credit, just in case.

I also have to do that essay for Black History. Fuck. I haven't been keeping up my reading for that at all. I don't know my midterm grade for Italian Urbanism, and have a paper coming up soon.

I know I have an A in Will's class, but I begin to doubt that anything personal will ever happen there. I'm still going to try, but I've mostly accepted that that's probably not going to happen. Le sigh. When's gonna be my time?

Cancun Restraunt is a deathtrap of illness. Their food has reduced my to a weebling pile of sadness. I feel like my body's a series of nested Chinese boxes, and in the gaps between little pools of pain are stagnating, and yet those spaces remain hollow and empty, with pain richocheting between the layers like a tiny steel ball. It sucks so bad I'm basically writing prose poetry about it. Eww.

State of the Union

I guess a B+ in American Frontiers on the midterm isn't the end of life. Now that I know he wants more precision, on the final I can provide those specific dates he wants, and should I do well it's entirely possible to get an A on the final and the other midterm, as well as the eventual paper, and thus an A or A- in the class as a whole. I could have spent less time on the IDs and more time on the essays as well, but I always do that. That'll do, pig. I should go into his office and ask for a smidge of extra credit, just in case.

I also have to do that essay for Black History. Fuck. I haven't been keeping up my reading for that at all. I don't know my midterm grade for Italian Urbanism, and have a paper coming up soon.

I know I have an A in Will's class, but I begin to doubt that anything personal will ever happen there. I'm still going to try, but I've mostly accepted that that's probably not going to happen. Le sigh. When's gonna be my time?

Cancun Restraunt is a deathtrap of illness. Their food has reduced my to a weebling pile of sadness. I feel like my body's a series of nested Chinese boxes, and in the gaps between little pools of pain are stagnating, and yet those spaces remain hollow and empty, with pain richocheting between the layers like a tiny steel ball. It sucks so bad I'm basically writing prose poetry about it. Eww.