YOU'RE WRONG.
If I talked to myself (which I've never been known to do...ever) I would probably sit myself down on some really comfortable couch, put both my hands on my own knees, look straight into my own eyes and say "whoa, slow it down, buddy."
You know why?
Because I just got through (about) half of a 1000-ish word essay due NEXT monday. Yes, that's right. On the 14th. What day is it today? What? It's only the 7th?!
Whoa, slow it down, buddy!
I'm not entirely sure what's possessing me to start so early. A little bit of it is that I'm actually interested in what I'm writing about but the bigger part of it is that I did --------------------------------------> this much of nothing on the weekend and I have to make up for it, somehow.
Also, I got a 62% on my first online discussion for the same class because I'm dumb and I didn't post enough times. Lost 25%. That's huge. I'm dumb. Gotta make up for it, somehow.
You know, I'm starting to feel like I'm on the brink of actually caring about school. Like, just over on the other side of that really big mountain of procrastination and denial (that I'm a billion dollars in debt, jobless and have one year left of university) there's some hope that what I've spent all my money on is going to be worth it in the end.
Which is why I don't like to go out as much. I know, I'm 20 years old and I should be spending all of my time drunk but I don't feel it anymore. This could also be due to the fact that it's friggen cold out and I hate waiting for the bus or trying to get a taxi at 3 am, in less than Arctic-appropriate clothes with drunken idiots making inappropriate comments about all things that are more or less private.
Except, Saturday was an exception to this. Because just about everyone I talked to seemed really chill and funny and totally OK with having normal....(ok, drunken) but platonic conversations.
Like the guys at the bus stop. Now that was awesome. So, this one guy (who I will hereby refer to as The Stoned Guy) was talking about how cold it was and how he was going to start building an igloo if the bus didn't come soon. I told The Stoned Guy his best bet was to conserve body heat by getting all snuggly with his friends. However, he took this as an opportunity to vigorously rub my back (which was awesome, cause it felt warm) but then suddenly, with absolutely no provocation, he whispered into my ear (loudly, so that the other dudes we were with could hear too) "This guy's been talking shit about you all week" and then basically winds me up with the hand motion on my back and pushes me into the centre of the circle. I'd never met the guy (hereby referred to as Blue Hood) The Stoned Guy was talking about and Blue Hood looked at me like "Am I supposed to know you?" I jokingly confronted him saying "what the hell have you been saying about me?" and he jokingly replied "Shit man, so much stuff".
That's awesome. People who aren't afraid to act a little silly, make friends (even if for only 5 minutes) and have a good time. I'm tired of talking to people outside a bar (mostly guys because they're, ultimately, more entertaining) but feeling like he has an agenda and he's hoping that I'm interested in filling up one of his time slots. I'm not.
This week feels like a good week. The little guy inside me (oddly, I'm picturing a tiny bear wearing a red hat) is all warm and fuzzy and ready to actually accomplish stuff.
This actually isn't what I was imaging
but how awesome would it be
if Paddington Bear lived inside of me??
Also, nothing starts a week off better than a sexy guy with wit and good looks.
That's me. Stealing Sam's sign off because he's sleeping, therefore ignoring me and now I'm pissed off.
Joking.
PS: First time I've ever referred to Sunday as the start of the week. Times, they are a-changin'.
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