Feeling: anticlimactic
Listening to: Vienna Teng - Harbor
Reading/Watching: Thirteen

I am still here... and it's over.

One hour, thirteen songs, eight languages, seventy-five audience members, three party trays, twelve bottles of fake wine, three dozen roses, eight dozen cookies, and twenty thousand thank-yous later, I am fighting intense senioritis. I want nothing more than to blow off class and sleep, read books, watch movies, and perhaps write. It feels like the worst is over, and since I was cheated out of my weekend, I want to make up for it with intense laziness.

The school year, however, marches on. The Undergrad Research/Thesis Symposium is on April 2, so I need to finish my thesis by then (hopefully far in advance of that date, but we'll see what happens). I have an Anthropology paper due tomorrow, Ethics test on Friday, Valentine Cabaret on Tuesday, and my cousin's wedding on the 26th.

Somehow I managed to lose my weekly planner, so I bought an Impressionist painters one for $1 at the bookstore yesterday (calendar discounts are fun), and hurriedly scribbled in all the important dates coming up. It's ridiculous, how relieved I felt after doing that. I've come to depend on my paper brain far too much.

I also find it highly symbolic that the day after my recital, my class ring came in the mail with the new graduation year inscribed on it, a shiny 2005.

Comments? 1 so far...
Not a Diaryland member? Sign the Guestbook.