Dammit…for my first day back on campus yesterday, I worked my ass off getting crap situated so that I could properly start my semester off on the right foot today. Good thing I really did force physical masochism on myself yesterday and got a good amount done, though most of it was unpacking my huge stash of food so I can live in my room away from people. Unfortunately, that “right foot” wound up being a lead foot – lead, as in pencil “lead”, not leader “lead.”
My plans to wake up early after succumbing to a feverish sleep last night was turned into me falling in and out of sleep for 2 1/2 hours, punching myself (figuratively, of course, because I think physical masochism only works for accomplishing an important task which would otherwise be procrastinated on) to get the fuck out of my fairly cozy dormroom bed. My feverish headache had gone down by this time, but just my fuckin’ luck that as soon as I climb out of bed, my stomach turns upside down. I no longer have the will to eat before my 8:30 class, and because I could not wake up as early as I had wanted, I still require a shower and a writeup plan for the day so I don’t forget anything while I’m up and about.
Such is the restart of my life as a megane-ko (click for definition) student. Ugh…I feel like someone just forced-fed me a helping of seppuku. Fuck! And I can feel my fever coming back! Oh…and it’s raining dogs – I ❤ cats, so it’s never raining cats and dogs. All of this on the first day of classes.
Am I really, once again, that stressed out about being in the thicket of young adult society in which no one around me can comprehend – or would want to, for that matter – my soul’s existence? I can tell you that it’s not a major dilemma on my mind, but I have always known my psyche to be intensely imposing on my daily living. I have that same campus job on my hands as well.
Don’t expect much of me until I readjust the thong wedgie that is college living. Yes, I know thongs are supposed to give wedgies, but wedgies are meant to incur substantial discomfort; thongs are meant to be arousingly pleasant while freeing up room for ass-hugging, low-riding jeans so the entire male population (and some female, believe it or not ^ ~) can check out the perforation of your asscrack with a chance of 99.23568% success. A thong wedgie? Well…that’s a fuckin’ double-edged sword in more ways than one if you ask me. Too bad I would only indulge in such a practice if I actually wore ass-hugging jeans every day like the girls that live in the house with me.
Yeah. I’m different, and damn proud of it. Now go away…I have class in exactly an hour and I smell like hell. :: runs away crying ::
// ::Meganekko-Tune Now Playing [ Coldplay – X&Y – “Talk” ]:: \\