I have an unbelievably short attention span for someone claiming to be so patient.Rocky roads ahead--but this time I'm bringing a spare tire and a shot gun. College won't get the best of me this semester.
Doom descends--I feel the cold grasp of death stretching for my ankles every time I look over in the corner at my cello, the image of Mrs. Parrette's fingers securely locked around my throat clear in my mind...
"What the hell is this? You call this a scale?! I call this BULL SHIT."
I learned my lesson about money--I think. No more frivilous spending until I have a job. Then I can fart money for the warm feeling that comfort food gives normal people.
I decided I'm going to create a drill sergent persona to keep me motivated and driven. If it was up to me, I'd sit around all day perfecting the art of sleeping.
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