We're all sick here.
Chris has bronchitis like crazy. Josie's got a sore throat and isn't too happy about it. Steph is a little overwhelmed with stress. And me, I'm just going crazy.
Well, that, and the stagnant air created by my stupid wall-unit electric heater made me very congested. That sucks.
I'm listening to the Beach Boys and loving it. Not "Surfin' USA," not that there's anything wrong with that, but I am listening to Pet Sounds. It's making me think. About things that are not the introduction to my paper on current treatment of tics in Tourette's syndrome.
I so don't care about school anymore. I just need to get through this quarter, find something productive to do with all of winter quarter, then take two more classes and be done already. That is seven stupid more months of blah before I can go be an overeducated, underpaid (or unemployed) stiff in the real world. Grad school? No, thanks. Even if I wanted to go spend another 3+ years in academia, I don't know what I'd want to study. It'll still be there 20 years from now, anyway.
(fast forward four hours)
Intro done. Sore throat and congestion slightly abated. Dishes done. Wearing an off-white thermal with a St. Maarten t-shirt on top--sort of a visual irony with the warm clothes and the sunny, tropical locale design. Have really nothing more to do today unless I decide to throw my computer out the window in favor of a laptop I can't afford. Hurray.
I need some plans. And money. But mostly plans.