The roof is on fire

countdown to the 200th post begins
when I started writing in this thing I was doing it to keep up with two people with whom I didn't communicate enough. I was busy, they were busy, they've either stopped updating or erased their journals long ago. I don't really keep in touch with either of them at all anymore. Not an intentional decision, just life mostly. I keep plugging away with this blogthing. first off because I enjoy the outlet. But mostly because I am better at saying what I want to when I type, but when I talk I don't always say what I mean. My improv skills tend more toward the absurdist than the useful. And I know that I am keeping in touch with people without having to negotiate conflicting schedules. I'm happy to do that-I'm terrible with schedules. That's probably why I have a 20 page paper due on Thurs but I only have 3 pages written. I can't seem to manage my time very well. Tomorrow I intend to panic about the logistics of writing a 20 page paper in an afternoon.
Why, oh why, didn't I major in writing?
Because it's a worthless degree that inspires laughter.
Oh-wait-I'm a fuckin folklorist.
At least a writer's talent is pretty self explanatory.
I am officially participating in graduation.
Yea for me.
My name will be called, but I won't be in the program.
I won't get a diploma-just a leatherette binder with a note that says "See me." Or worse, "In progress."
On the long and tedious drive home I realized I'm jamming an entire semester (7 1/2 credits) into a month just so I can graduate 'on time' (in theory).
That's relaxing.
I think I'll finish the wine now. Just thinking about it makes me want to toast something. Like Dead to Me over an open fire created by the smoldering ashes of Never Existed to Me. Ahhhhh---comforting.
Tomorrow I am totally going to get up when Mik gets up for school and start working on my paper.
Right-she's usually up by 6:30. I can totally wake up by-2 maybe 3 hours after that.
This repeating episode must be so boring-me procrastinating on a paper right before the end of a semester. THis may well be the last time I do this.
Probably not.
I'd hate to have to face the terror of life without the buffer of school.
I heard today that this girl, let's call her Crazy Whore. Crazy Whore got pregnant went off her meds and dropped out of the program this semester. She came back a few weeks ago, asked for a reinstatement into the comfy world of GA-ship. She was given another chance.
A chance I was never given in the first place.
Rot in hell Dept of Folk and Anth. Rot in hell and writhe with the horror of the torment subjected upon evil souls.
I hope this is pretty much where the program goes. Stupid Crazy Whores from here on out. They'll be gone or at best a laughing stock in short order. As long as they cease to be soon I'll be happy.
We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn.