I’m so ready to graduate. It’s in only three weeks, and it couldn’t seem farther away. I have two research papers due, both next week, neither of which I have started. I don’t even know what I’m going to write about for one of them yet. Oh well. I’m going up to university-of-my-dreams tomorrow to do research. It’s so ridiculous that this school is probably less than half the size of mine and they have at so many more books than we do. Our library is a floor of books from the sixties; their library is a system with multiple buildings and 10 stories of books in the main one. Every time I go there, I get super depressed. But, ILL is pretty much ruled out at this point, so they better fucking have the books I need.
I made a to-do list today, and I have to work my ass off for the next week in order to pull all of this off. It’s not going to be fun. At this point in the semester, though, I’d rather be lazy and just let graduation come. I think I should probably send out announcements, which are good for only one thing: money. Plus, the family on my mother’s side practically has forgotten that we exist. So, I should remind them that it’s that time again to send some cash. My cousin, who I was really close with growing (not among the ones who’ve forgotten we exist) told me last week that she is no longer coming to my graduation. I’m kinda pissed about this because she didn’t show up to my high school graduation either. She said something about a concert or something, which is rather upsetting. She said “Oh, you’ll just be spending time with your friends anyway.” I told her that I would really like for her to be there, but she’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. It’s just disappointing.
I just don’t want to think about the mountains of work I have to do this week and next. Incidentally, my idiot boss just decided that he wants to start giving me hours again, and I’m working two eight hour shifts in a row this week, on Friday and Saturday, prime homework days. I can’t argue because I need the hours. But, seriously, I hate my fucking job.
But when I hand in these papers, it’s going to be celebration time.
In other news, I called my roommate today to tell her that it’s her turn to pick up toilet paper. She called back and said that she would get some. Well, she’s not here and neither is the tp. Knowing her, she will never get it and I will, once again, have to get it myself after it runs out when I poop. Which is what happened tonight. Maybe I should get it and only bring it in the bathroom when I use the toilet. That would be a good strategy. But just so annoying to do.
