What's my crime?! I put off a huge paper, two midterms, and a short imitation on The Kingfisher. until midnight. Sunday night. They all expire at noon. On Monday. It is now 3:16 AM, I am done with the paper and have studied for one of the midterms. I sit here idly, rubbing my eyes really hard and taking slow, dry handfuls of apple zings from the ginormous bag that lies next to me. It's that point at which I have to stop and unclench my aching jaw every few minutes when I notice it has tensed up again, the point at which one of my eyes starts to wander and I feel like Igor from Young Frankenstein (apology to Emily I know I know I know). My roommate is asleep across the room, but I musn't fall asleep or my Art History grade will be held over my head in dramatic danger of being destroyed--so what do I do?
Well obviously I crank up Over the Moon on my iPod, shove it in the waistband of my jeans, stand up, and reenact the entire thing in the three feet of space between my bed and desk chair that I call my own. Silently, of course. Just like this
but silently.
I've never been in more parallel of a mindset with any character in my entire life until this morning. I'll see you four or five hours from now, as I crawl out from under a pile of slide lists covered in sticky apple zing vomit laced with diet coke.
2 comments:
the picture isn't showing up, the vomit comment was unnecessary, I should really be listening in my class right now, no worries I am multi-tasking. Etruscans--I heard that, see I proved it. What? Oh yeah, LOVE YOU. now go get some sleep.
Hey. A metaphor is a metaphor, no offense taken.
Post a Comment