School starts tomorrow.

I can’t believe school starts tomorrow.

10 AM class. Geography 203, which is (thanks to my handydandy little course booklet…I’ve actually forgotten what classes I’m taking.) Cultural Geography. Whopee. Actually, that supposed to be WHOPEE! Cultural Geog. I mean, yeah. Fun. Then…(peeks at schedule…god, I’ve got to get myself together…I’m packing my bag for school now, picking out my clothes NOW…when I should be sleeping, since I did, as I previously mentioned, awake promptly at six in the AM today) ART 111. Okay, I’ll admit it, I’m completely frightened of this class. First of all, it’s INTRO to Art. Which means one of two things, either A:) I’m going to be thrown in with a bunch of artsy freshmen or B:) a bunch of juniors and sophomores, like myself, who have neglected to take an Art class because we fear challenge, commitment and the ability to wake before eleven in the morning.

Let me just comment on this for a second, just let me rant a bit. If you’re going to, or are currently attending college, stay the hell where you are. If you’re unhappy, bite the bullet and try to make whatever living hell you’ve accidently fallen into work for you because, and I’m telling you honestly, from experience, YOU DO NOT WANT TO UNLEASH THE EVIL WHICH IS TRANSFERRING. There is no bigger pain in your ass than transferring. Stay where you are. If you don’t like it, drop out, just DO NOT (and I don’t mean to crush anyone’s dreams here or say that transferring isn’t for anyone. If you’re really, really, really, really miserable and know you cannot possibly live for one more day in your present collegiate state, then, by all means, transfer. But please, don’t come crying to me when the registrar loses your transcripts, half your classes don’t transfer over or you suddenly discover you’re going to have to take PSYCH 101 with a bunch beer drenched, oversexed freshmen because YOUR PSYCH 101 class “didn’t fit the criteria”.). So, if you really want to transfer, go ahead.

Just don’t say you didn’t know what would happen.

Friggin’ Pandora’s box.

Anyway, at this very moment, I am printing off a map of the beautiful KSC campus, which you will find me wandering helplessly about tomorrow as I blunder through my first day of classes as a junsoph. I have no clue what I am, except a hybrid, sprung forth from the loins of laziness and miscommunications between the bored and hungover workstudiers of respective college offices.

At least two of my classes are close to each other.

I think.

Work sucked tonight. Might as well throw that in to lighten the mood.

Didn’t work.

Went over to Neil’s after work. Supposed to hang with Meg, but her car broke down and she was livid, so I listened sympthetically and smoked Camels. Neil came home from The Show That Did Not Rock (I’ll explain later). He was in a shitty mood, which added a lot to mine and Meg’s upbeat conversation about how cars, guys, school and friends suck. Meg went sleepies because she was tired. Neil and I stayed up and watched TV and complained about how hungry we were. We made scramby eggs and bagels at eleven and watched El Simpsones and The Critic. And bitched. We bitch well together.

I love Neil.

I was looking through my little welcome wagon folder from Keene and saw some volunteering opportunities. Maybe that’s what Neil needs.

Actually, I KNOW what Neil needs, and it certainly isn’t dishing out baked beans to homeless people, but perhaps lending a hand to someone else would make him feel like he’s more fufilled and not just sliding from work to home every day of his life.

But LIKE I friggin’ have time to volunteer somewhere. Riiiight…

We’ll see.

It’s 1:30 AM.

Penny is asleep on my bed.

Where I should be.

Goodnight, lovies.

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