We slept in this morning, which was all right. I did my homework last night, and despite the fact that I knew I had a chem test today, I realized that I really didn’t need to do any studying. True, last night I was posting on how I’m trying to do more work and skipping out on studying is certainly the opposite of that little promise I made. But, seriously. Intro Chemistry. This stuff is ridiculous. I think it’s the same cirriculum I had back in high school. Remember how to do exponential numbers? You’re set.
I handed the exam back to the professor thirty minutes after sitting down to take it. She had four different exams (all color coded…) and had made a seating chart so to dissuade us from cheating. That thing about high school chemistry… cirriculum and discipline. Awesome.
Anyway, I’m really confident in the test. No worries there. I got out of class forty-five minutes early, strolled down to the student union, where I sit now, connected to the school’s nascent wireless network. It’s been about two and a half hours. I finished up an essay due on Monday for my American Lit class, and now all I need to do for next week is get an outline together for the British Authors exam. It’s good to have things done.
I haven’t had much of a chance to write for pleasure. I am, however, reading Stephen King’s Bag of Bones, which is reading for pleasure. It also has the strange ability to inspire the hell out of me. And, yes, inspiration is like 1% of the equation, but it helps considerably.
I’ve got a few projects up my sleeve, and after work tomorrow, I think I’ll sit down somewhere… maybe the back porch, if it’s cool enough (and dry enough… Ophelia needs to get to her drowning, if you ask me), and write 3 pages minimum on the story about the dead girl who meets the living boy on the playground, and they play detectives to figure out why the girl is dead. Sound like something you’d want to read? Perhaps I’ll push it off on you.
Leave a Reply