Conspiracy of One: To Screw

Looking forward to next semester, despite schedule misgivings. I was aiming to eliminate a decent portion of my Communications degree, but it was not to pass. In the end, I figured out a way to salvage a Political Science course, but I’d like to add one more class so I can push my luck to 17-18 units.

Not necessarily excited about dorm life; not necessarily depressed about it, either. Staying at home has allotted me a new toy in the form of a bed. It looks great, and I must classify it as comfortable, even in couch form. I’ve gotten used to the dark curtain decor, provided I don’t mind sleeping in late.

Work, on the other hand, plagues me. I’m not sure if I’ll stay in El Segundo, or take my chances out there where I reside. Ten hours last Sunday was a bitch. No lie, it was a bitch. Then, for Nicole to not acknowledge it makes me even more uncharacteristically distrustful. Like hell, a simple apology would work wonders. Then again, I can’t get that, because it’d be too easy. On the other end of the spectrum, I get a rookie telling me that the store can be closed without the prefect. I used to like her spunk, but I grew rather tired of it all. In short, I humble my followers, but I embarrass dissidents; the difference between the two is whether a lesson was learned.

My mother’s license plates are back, and I can’t wait to apply them to her car. There’s something about the attitude a vanity plate ignites. Reminder: must go buy second vanity frame for my own car.

Other reminder: must stop being single. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Marie Digby – “Spell”


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