a dreamer of pictures

love. i could use a whole lot of love right now.

this morning started off far too early, but that was ok. i talked to liz. i had coffee. there was fluffy snow. i talked to kate. i had more coffee. there was good music. things were nice. i had one more coffee. things were really nice

i cracked down on the roman civ essay about noon.

[let it be known here and now that it takes me a full day to write a paper, even when i have my research done. i can't pump it out like some people. it's my whole attraction to shiny things, they make me wander].

anyways, i'm typing away, i've got seven hundred words, and i realize that it's drifted a bit so i redraft and cut and paste and then really get on a roll. like, the words are flying out of me, albeit unclearly. but i'm not worried, it'll be edited later. and then, then there's that fucking noise. it sounds like there's a dead bird being reanimated by doctor frankenghoul or something. it means one thing, and one thing alone- a fire drill.

[i'm sure you remember my joy of fire drills from the past].

i pull on pants, grab the crappy roman civ text i stole from jeffreys and heard outside, figuring it'll be a mere twenty minutes before i am once again typing madly at my roman civ paper. after i'm done it, i'm gong to do latin. get some studying in for that test. great plan. awesome plan. i am majestic at planning plan.

except we're kept out of our building for fucking three and a half hours. THREE! THREE HOURS OF NOTHING! THREE WHOLE FUCKING HOURS! THIS IS ME FILLED WITH RAGE!

when we're allowed back in, there's some interesting water leakage from the fifth and sixth floors because some of the sprinklers went off. i rip off my pants, throw on other pants, and then run to res commons to meet peter and kelly for dinner. [because yes, i'm such a good student that i'll go out for dinner before writing a paper]. when they arrive, i'm literally physically shaking with rage. i start telling them about my day and catch myself before i get hysterical and start acting a fool. well, more a fool than usual i mean. and i do mean seriously hysterical, like sobbing hysterical. i just catch it. woah nessie.

we then proceed to get food. i pay for all of dinner with my visa and am less filled with rage. then comes the bus adventure wherein megs and peter tramp to lycee clodel stop- if you know ottawa, you're asking what the fuck? if you don't know ottawa, know that this is nowhere near my home and it makes little to no sense as to how i ended up there. we end up in past-knee-deep snow and almost missing the bus we were supposed to catch.

when i finally get home at half ten, i attempt to work on my essay. which is so shiete it's actually hilarious. i call kate, whine to her, she makes me laugh and then i crack down with coffee [such a fiend!] and some sugar t keep me going. except i'm so tired that it really doesn't work.

i now officially give up. i'm going to sleep for five hours, get up, skip latin class [yeah, there's a fucking test. fuck that fucking shit. i don;t care if i'm just using jeffreys. the raaaaagggeeeee comes out again here as you'll see] and then apologize and explain to jeffreys in the evening.

oh, and all of this was accomplished with a broken toe. i fucking told you i needed some love.