24 hours until my computer science final project is due, another 40 or so hours after which two further final papers (one in history and one a lab report) are due, and 24 hours after that, a final exam in... something. I can't quite recall which class my first exam is for, but I can always look that up.
It seems like a lot of time, when you put it like that.
I won't dilly-dally too much here, but I just needed to get this thought off my chest in the middle of this maelstrom of mismanagement. Forget the "woe is me" shtick. But it is only in times like these when the pressures both real and imagined seem to pile on and on, that I find my own, Zen-like calm. Perhaps it is because when all the chips are down and all your clichés expended, you really are only left with one path to follow. I can procrastinate all I want, but when push comes to shove (these clichés just don't stop, do they?), there's not much left to do except... what needs to get done. It's not hard to see why I've come to be so used to such behavior, when the end result is so single-mindedly simple. Life is perhaps never so easy as when you have only one thing you can do. Explanation is still a long way off from justification, but the truth is a start.
P.S. There is a letter that I can't really say I've been meaning to write, since the idea to write it only just popped into my mind about 30 minutes ago. Yet, it is not unexpected and perhaps overdue. Even though the idea has only existed for the last half-hour, I've been fighting the urge to start writing it on my computer. That is not the way, and would likely defeat the purpose of writing in the first place. A few days more, then I'll have time.
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Currently listening to:
I'll String Along with You, Diana Krall, from the soundtrack to The Cooler
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Lame
"Since when do you know how to grow weed?" The look on her face said she was not as amused as he had hoped she'd be.
"Since Google stock crossed $400. You helpin' me or not?" No matter. Stick to the humor. He'd win her over eventually. Hell, she smokes more than I do, he thought.
"Seriously though, how the fuck do you expect to get away with this?" She walked past him, towards the door out of his recently-christened nursery. When he had brought her in here, blindfolded and giggling, he imagined this going a helluva lot easier.
"Get away with what? I'm growing a freakin' plant here... " She turned back and shot him a glare. Her normally relaxed, deep brown eyes were now a fiery auburn. At least, he'd call it auburn. How the hell would he know, he was practically colorblind. Red-green deficient to be precise. Whatever it was, she really was angry. "Ok, ok, plants."
She started putting her hands on her hips, then realized how clichéd she looked. Instead, she settled on crossing her arms and jutting an angry foot out towards him. It wasn't just her lips that were doing it, her whole body was pouting at him. Kinda cute actually. Really cute.
"What's so funny?" He couldn't help the smile that she was eliciting from him with her ridiculous pose. Really, she was too short to be intimidating, and too tall to be an angry midget. Blessed mediocrity. He could kiss her for being so average.
"You are. And don't tell me you don't want a piece of this." He waved his left hand across the room, gesturing towards the as of yet non-existant plants. But really, he meant himself.
"Oh don't get me wrong. I wouldn't mind a piece of... this." The words dripped slowly out of her full lips. She took a step towards him, letting her arms drop slowly down beside her lovely figure. Her eyes were burning still, but with a different sort of flame. He could see a glimpse of the tip of her tongue licking the roof of her mouth as she stretched out the last syllable of "this." Oh God, she was in his head.
"Then what's the problem?" He tried to put on his sexiest come-hither look, but even he knew it was more than likely just a dumb, "I'm gonna get some" half-grin, half-dumb drool sort of face.
"The problem, unfortunately," she paused as she took the last steps to reach him, standing so close he could feel the light touch of her chest gently grazing his torso, "is that we really shouldn't." Maybe he couldn't do it, but she definitely had that come-hither thing down. To a freakin' T.
"Since when has that ever stopped you?" He reached up, putting his arms around the small of her back, one hand reaching up into her soft, dark hair. She responded ever so slightly to his touch, leaning more into his body and stretching her face up to look into his.
"Since the minimum mandatory sentence became 3 years in prison with a fine of up to $25,000 dollars for 25 lbs of marijuana plants in the state of Florida, honey."
The grin on her face was positively evil.
"Since Google stock crossed $400. You helpin' me or not?" No matter. Stick to the humor. He'd win her over eventually. Hell, she smokes more than I do, he thought.
"Seriously though, how the fuck do you expect to get away with this?" She walked past him, towards the door out of his recently-christened nursery. When he had brought her in here, blindfolded and giggling, he imagined this going a helluva lot easier.
"Get away with what? I'm growing a freakin' plant here... " She turned back and shot him a glare. Her normally relaxed, deep brown eyes were now a fiery auburn. At least, he'd call it auburn. How the hell would he know, he was practically colorblind. Red-green deficient to be precise. Whatever it was, she really was angry. "Ok, ok, plants."
She started putting her hands on her hips, then realized how clichéd she looked. Instead, she settled on crossing her arms and jutting an angry foot out towards him. It wasn't just her lips that were doing it, her whole body was pouting at him. Kinda cute actually. Really cute.
"What's so funny?" He couldn't help the smile that she was eliciting from him with her ridiculous pose. Really, she was too short to be intimidating, and too tall to be an angry midget. Blessed mediocrity. He could kiss her for being so average.
"You are. And don't tell me you don't want a piece of this." He waved his left hand across the room, gesturing towards the as of yet non-existant plants. But really, he meant himself.
"Oh don't get me wrong. I wouldn't mind a piece of... this." The words dripped slowly out of her full lips. She took a step towards him, letting her arms drop slowly down beside her lovely figure. Her eyes were burning still, but with a different sort of flame. He could see a glimpse of the tip of her tongue licking the roof of her mouth as she stretched out the last syllable of "this." Oh God, she was in his head.
"Then what's the problem?" He tried to put on his sexiest come-hither look, but even he knew it was more than likely just a dumb, "I'm gonna get some" half-grin, half-dumb drool sort of face.
"The problem, unfortunately," she paused as she took the last steps to reach him, standing so close he could feel the light touch of her chest gently grazing his torso, "is that we really shouldn't." Maybe he couldn't do it, but she definitely had that come-hither thing down. To a freakin' T.
"Since when has that ever stopped you?" He reached up, putting his arms around the small of her back, one hand reaching up into her soft, dark hair. She responded ever so slightly to his touch, leaning more into his body and stretching her face up to look into his.
"Since the minimum mandatory sentence became 3 years in prison with a fine of up to $25,000 dollars for 25 lbs of marijuana plants in the state of Florida, honey."
The grin on her face was positively evil.
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