It's 12:02 am on Christmas. I'm sitting where I write best, or rather, where I write most-- in bed. My feet are tucked under layers of blankets, but they're still cold. My feet are always cold.
Happy Christmas. It comes only once a year, savor it.
24 December 2009
14 December 2009
Announcement
I’m in the wrong major. I love my new marketing job—my desire for a job like this one is the reason I began a major in business—but I’m not enjoying my business classes enough.
Supply chain is yucky. Economics is dull. It could be the professors, because previous classes in each of these areas were wonderful and I really enjoyed them. I don't know what it is, but for some reason I can’t really get myself to enjoy my upper level business classes. It’s unfortunate. Very.
It's finals week. And I need to study hard for all of these tests in all of these classes that are dull.
That's the truly unfortunate part.
Supply chain is yucky. Economics is dull. It could be the professors, because previous classes in each of these areas were wonderful and I really enjoyed them. I don't know what it is, but for some reason I can’t really get myself to enjoy my upper level business classes. It’s unfortunate. Very.
It's finals week. And I need to study hard for all of these tests in all of these classes that are dull.
That's the truly unfortunate part.
07 December 2009
Distracted
Do you want the whole truth? Here it is.
I'm distracted.
My recently resurfaced painting fetish is stealing my attention away from school. My new exciting internship/job is distracting me from school. This blog is a distraction. Your blog is a distraction. He is a distraction.
Christmas is the biggest distraction of them all. I've discovered that I love celebrating Christmas. I've always liked celebrating Christmas, but it feels like a new discovery this year.
Him: What are you doing?
Me: Celebrating Christmas.
Him: Don't you have homework?
Me: Yes, but I'm not doing it because it's Christmas break.
Him: Nope, it's not Christmas break yet. Not 'til next week.
Me: No, it's right now... I've discovered that Christmas is more fun than homework.
Him: That doesn't mean it's Christmas break.
Me: Actually it does.
Ahh, this darn distraction is making me so happy.
01 December 2009
I like it here.
I love the rhythmic clank of buttons hitting the side of the dryer as my jeans dry and the machine spins. I can hear it from my bed.
Leaning against the back of my book shelf, right by my favorite yellow book, are the only paintings we've painted together. He's color blind and hence artistic. You could say he's uninhibited by color.
My clothes are draped nicely over cupboard doors that are built into my bedroom wall. I don't like clothes on the floor in my room, but I don't have time to hang all of my clothes every time I get undressed. Right? I don't have time? No, I don't have the patience.
A stained glass star drops from a nail in the wall directly across from where I sit in my bed. I like the blue shadow cast by the star best of all.
I leave the light bulbs on my ceiling light fixture naked. I like them better that way. They're brighter that way.
A striped pillow case. A half-eaten, melted, and re-hardened 70% cocoa bar. A silk scarf draped around the neck of my bed lamp. Three hat boxes filled with pencils, belts, and hats respectively.
The old fashioned clock that I never start because it ticks too loudly.
My grandma's big dresser mirror is dusty, but I'm glad it is. My sister's fingertip wrote and drew messages in the dust. From the angle here in my bed, I notice that she drew a heart with initials-- it should be carved in an aspen tree.
Leaning against the back of my book shelf, right by my favorite yellow book, are the only paintings we've painted together. He's color blind and hence artistic. You could say he's uninhibited by color.
My clothes are draped nicely over cupboard doors that are built into my bedroom wall. I don't like clothes on the floor in my room, but I don't have time to hang all of my clothes every time I get undressed. Right? I don't have time? No, I don't have the patience.
A stained glass star drops from a nail in the wall directly across from where I sit in my bed. I like the blue shadow cast by the star best of all.
I leave the light bulbs on my ceiling light fixture naked. I like them better that way. They're brighter that way.
A striped pillow case. A half-eaten, melted, and re-hardened 70% cocoa bar. A silk scarf draped around the neck of my bed lamp. Three hat boxes filled with pencils, belts, and hats respectively.
The old fashioned clock that I never start because it ticks too loudly.
My grandma's big dresser mirror is dusty, but I'm glad it is. My sister's fingertip wrote and drew messages in the dust. From the angle here in my bed, I notice that she drew a heart with initials-- it should be carved in an aspen tree.
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