Saturday, November 22, 2003

Whose blog?

Yeah, here we play a game where I emulate someone's blog, just for the fuck of it. Today's entry will be one of my chicago inner circle:

Life is sometimes kind of sticky.

No wait, that's my bedsheets.

Squip.

Alright punters, whose blog?

Thursday, November 20, 2003

Today has officially been declared a sunday. In fact, I just had myself a mid-week weekend; not that this implies I'm going to get much done tonight, either; I'm probably off to a certain fraternity in about fifteen minutes to get myself blasted. Anyway, I haven't been to class in the last two days almost by default; as in, I just suddenly decided that I was way to lazy to get my ass out of bed, and hence decided not to. I know, not exactly the best way to stay in school, but I figure I've never had any problems staying in school, anyway, so why the fuck not. I mean, fucking seriously.

I don't know why I'm so tired. Perhaps it's because I've been sleeping so fucking ridiculously much. I guess that's just what I do, though. I'm a badass. Yeah!

In other news, the apartment is, like, ridiculously clean. I'm really pleased with myself. Since Alex has been gone, everything is, if nothing else, a lot more orderly. It's pretty cool, says I. Indeed.

Tuesday, November 18, 2003

The alarm rings at 8.30. It's raining outside. What the fuck? Why is the alarm ringing? Fuck. Fuck. Hold on a minute. Fuck. It's still ringing. I tap the person sleeping beside me kind of gently, mainly because I have no idea where the fuck she is. My eyes are still closed. I hear a grunt. This is not going to be easy. Fuck. Shit. Man, two hours isn't enough. Fuck. I'll wake up at 8.45. Where's the fucking alarm clock? Fucking bastard alarm clock. There it is. Suddenly, silence. Where did my pillow go? It disappeared. No, wait, someone is lying on it. I'm too tired.

The alarm rings at 8.45. Still raining. Maybe I won't go to class.

"Hey, do you want to wake up?"

No response.

"If you don't wake up, I'm just going to fuck it."

The alarm is still ringing. I cave. This time, I set it to 9. I don't give a shit about class, and the bed is very comfortable. Or is it? Where the fuck am I? Right, at home. Fuck. At least I have a pillow now.

The alarm rings at 8.55. I let it go for 2 minutes.

"Turn that thing off?"

"Are you going to wake up?"

"I don't care. I just wanna sleep."

"What time do you want to wake up? I'll set the alarm."

"Never."

I turn off the alarm and lie in bed for another two minutes.

Damn 9.30 classes.

Fuck.

"I'll wake you up when I get back"

No response.

I put on my shoes and trudge out the door. It's still raining. My cigarette is soaked and doesn't burn all the way down. Tuesday suddenly feels a lot like Monday and most of me just wants to be back in bed.

The bus pulls up faster than I expected. My cigarette has long since stopped burning. I put out the stub with my foot as I board the bus, more out of habit than anything.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath. The bus is packed.

The door closes and we're off to another fun filled college day.