welcome.
Meow.
Meow. |
1)-Make sure all of the quotes from my book are in my outline. Also all of the transitions. Research stuff wouldn't hurt, but I'm betting I won't get to it and still be sane. 2)-British Author's notes? At least write down the headers. 3)-Sparknotes for "review" of The Killer Angels. Yum. 4)-Figure out how I'm going to fix my throat. Again, yum. 5)-A couple math problems. 6)-A BSed Biology "reading guide" 7)-Meaningful conversations before I pass out. 8)-How about I make some lunch ahead of time for tomorrow? That sounds nice. And clothing pre-picked out would be helpful too. Damn, tomorrow is going to be hard, mentally. I'd say the vacation was well worth it, though. Sure, there are plenty of other things I might have liked to do. But I got my late night. And that's really all that mattered to me. Easily amused, I guess. "Impulse arrested spills over, and the flood is feeling, the flood is passion, the flood is even madness: it depends on the force of the current, the height and strength of the barrier." -And it's words like these that make me love being emotionally silly. And it's those silly lyrics that strike you the right way. Feeling, passion, madness. Ahh. It makes me melt. The feeling of ecstasy. Or true sadness. Or to be so utterly frustrated to the point of tears. Or to be completely in love. I could be frustrated about how I feel. Or, I could be thankful that I'm complex enough to feel anything at all. Because I've been numb before. And that's just awful. My favorite, is probably the feeling of walking up the stairs after a fantastic evening, not doing quite what you had intended to at the beginning, shedding layers, pulling over covers, and letting out a few wonderfully contented sighs. Ahh. Beautiful. I want to feel that again. |
