Whoa Junior, what
28 February 2004 at 10:03 pm

Tomorrow marks the last day off I�ll have for the next twenty days. How do I feel about this? I�m so dead tired already, there�s not much room left for feeling.

I took my first exam in two years on Thursday. I�m eighty percent sure that I passed. The twenty percent of me that�s unsure � I think it�s my left foot � only feels that way because it was a scantron true/false test, something I am prone to fuck up.

I gave someone this address in a drunken �Why not?� moment and am wondering if he�s reading this. Hello? Is anybody there? I�m sorry I was such a little shit. It was the first time I drank in something like a month, and I was feeling a little too feisty to be good company.

I�m going out tonight with the girl I went out with the last time, and she is quickly becoming my partner in crime. I accidentally wrote time, because as of now, I have none. That�s kind of a strange phrase, because the time is there, it�s just a matter of what you do with it. And I choose to make money.

I�m reading a book right now entitled �The Nine Parts of Desire� by Geraldine Brooks. It�s about her observations as a journalist in Islamic countries, particularly, the lifestyle of women. She wrote about an American who left Iraq, I think, to come back to America but got sick of the career-centered lifestyle and moved back to a country that was more family oriented. I can�t imagine living a life that wasn�t about making money. I can�t imagine not worrying about when my credit cards are going to be paid off, finding pleasure in balancing my checkbook, weighing the pros and cons of every purchase, offering my presence to anyone who will give me money. I simply can�t fathom it.

I spent another hour cleaning the kitchen today. I don�t know how it gets so fucking dirty. Wait, yes I do; I have a chef for a boyfriend, and at his job, people clean up after him, so he�s used to splattering food everywhere. By everywhere, I mean bits and pieces of alfredo and lomo saltado makes it�s way five feet away to the refrigerator, the microwave, every single square inch of the floor. I love my Swiffer.

one year ago today: "�there was no need to make me feel bad.� �there was no need to fuck my boyfriend, claire.�" and "to be perfectly honest, all i've been doing is watching tv, smoking pot with michelle, and sleeping. ah yes: the recipe for success."

two years ago today: nothing.

three years ago today: nothing.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.