2 summer classes are ending in two days and it’s giving me MAJOR anxiety. Me + free time = danger! danger! danger!
I mean, we all have good intentions of spending more time outside, reading books, playing music, volunteering, and actually interacting with people until the whole day or weeks have passed and you’ve exhausted your wine budget and Ross and Rachel do, in fact, end up together.
But then I’m on novel (err—sometimes chick lit) 3 and that’s a helluva lot more reading than I did these past 18 months while I was in limbo head land. OK fine, lazy girl head land. I can’t help that all my classes have more Greek letters and numbers than words so I just can’t be bothered with English. Except when my professor says sex in class. Oy vey!Well—- it’s really Sech as in hyperbolic function of secant spoken in a British accent. Naturally, I still pretend it’s sex.
Oh! The man sitting a few couches away from me just woke up from his 5 hour nap. Now I feel I should go back to work…