2 papers and 15 pages later, here I am.I'm burnt out and want to go home now. God bless tomorrow and the music teacher who doesn't care if we don't show up to class.
I'm more exhausted than I have ever been. This wins hands down over crutching it across the field at Falcon Ridge or staying up until 4am to finish writing the term paper for 11th grade english that was the source of my love/hate relationship with F. Scott Fitzgerald.
I was in the midst of writing a paper for history last night when I just stopped. I don't know if it was the Neurontin talking or something but I just stopped and asked myself "What's the fucking point?"
So I continued to write the shittiest paper on the Holocaust that I could. The half-jew inside me is deeply ashamed but there's nothing I can do about it now. It's handed in and I can go home tomorrow with a clear mind...and photos from the first weekend of November and from the museum I visited last week. So, there'll be pictures varying from a photo of me and Jian and me with a toy wolf's head. Yeah...go Sally.
Oh, I've been working out lately...well, I've been using the treadmill at the gym to do some miles. On Saturday night, I completed 1.75 miles and just this afternoon I walked 2.77 miles. I was really proud.
Since I've been really sexually frustrated lately, I learned that when the basketball team came in for practice that exercise is a good thing.
I'm 10 pages away from finishing my latest novel.
I go home tomorrow at 5:30ish. I can't wait. I'm tired of being here and truly think that the five days at home will do everything for me.
Now I have to go before the drugs seduce me further.
