Feeling: squished
Listening to: Jump Little Children - Come Around
Reading/Watching: Katherine Mansfield. I like her.

There are so many reasons why I want to collapse with an impressive flopping sound into a big, soft bed, and just sleep until June.

Today is my thesis recital, tomorrow my big full-band arrangement for Orchestration class is due, Wednesday is I have to get one of my three final papers for Pedagogy done (these are self-imposed deadlines, they're not due until the final) Thursday Bri and I are studying for our Philosophy final, Friday I'm driving to Houston to sing for the wedding on Saturday, before driving back for Bri's big pre-finals Drunken Decompression bash that night (and before you judge me, trust me: I could really use a night of oblivion), then church and synagogue work on Sunday, and my finals start Monday with a bang, Philosophy first in line.

On the plus side, the priest who is my big scary Philosophy professor, Fr. GiantRussianName, who makes honors graduates cry with frustration, graded my extra-credit paper on Postmodernity and e-mailed me saying, "This was excellent. It reveals a depth and a sense of history you haven't shown me before. Have you been hiding your light under a bushel?"

And I want to e-mail him saying, "Of course I have; you scared the living daylights out of me the first half of the year," but instead I responded with a simple "I'm glad you liked it, thank you." 'Cause. You know. He hasn't graded the finals yet. Wouldn't do to aggravate him now.

And Nimsay's week is going to be hectic too. No wonder we're sniping at each other. This is not so good.

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