one paper down, second one half way done. are they good? probably not. but i don’t care any more 🙂

i’m back, typing to try to get my brain to start working. focus. i knew i shouldn’t have had any of that caffeine earlier today.

listening to fiona apple while writing about sylvia plath is just way to appropriate. loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooookkkkkkkkkkkkkk

so in a world where sometimes you need to just start typing in order to get a few thousand things done, here i am. because

at the end of a very tumultous week i spill red crystal light all over my carpet. but at least it didn’t get on the

i am burned out. i am tired. i am tired of writing this essay. i am mad that my professor gave me one point for

i have been so immersed in eliot’s “little gidding” from “the four quartets” that i actually had a dream about it last night.

i am so hot. my apartment is so hot. the newsroom is hot. its hot outside. whats the deal? i was supposed to get some

all my best friends are getting married. all three of the girls i hung around with in high school are all engaged: one in july,

i tell her that i’m hungry, and she says, “ooh eat some cheesecake when you get home!” the time is currently 12:41 p.m. and she