You would think that with a statistics final looming over this coming Friday morning, I would be doing something along the lines of preparation for said final. Nay.
Instead, I'm acting like a spaz and lashing out impulsively. Case in point: emailed a potential renter for housing in--no, not my free, safe, secure little family home in Santa Clarita--but San Francisco. Yes. San Francisco. Treasure Island nonetheless. Well, if it goes through, I did always want to be a pirate.
Arr.
Bad Joke.
Next month I traipse my way up to Hume Lake, get dropped off in the middle of "nowhere," and spend a month in seclusion in my aunt's luxury cabin. Life is very hard. I sometimes just have to grit my teeth and bear it. ha. But really, I am spending those long weeks/days/hours/however-long-I-last finishing/starting grad school applications I should have been crunching on weeks/months ago. Sigh.
After that I must get some job to fill my currently empty--no, not exaggerating, empty--bank account.
You're all enthralled with my life, I can tell. At any rate, considering my current behavior, who knows where I'll be in the next few weeks. Or next month. Or tomorrow.
Time for more procrastination. My calculator's glaring up at me from my sad little desk, crying, "Stats me! Stats me!" Instead, I'm going to get dressed.
And go shopping.
No comments:
Post a Comment