No Midnight Juggernauts tonight, it’s sold out. Which, I suppose, is better. I would have gotten home very late and I have to work on Thursday. I’m hanging in the library briefly, my class is in 17 minutes but it’s right across the way.
I’m still in a bit of a foul mood this week. Coming back to the city always puts me in better spirits though.
It was a beautiful day today, I ran 3/4 of a mile and then went to the gym to run two more miles. My knees feel ok, I guess.
I am barely treading water financially. I absolutely cannot buy anything this weekend. That damn Spanish workbook broke the bank, bringing the total cost of books and materials this class to an even $240. I will never. Never. Never. Get out of debt. Unless I work full-time during breaks. Which is probably what I’m going to end up doing.
Two minutes until class. Trying not to look at the smokin’ hot librarian at the reference desk. I can has librarian? He’s even in a cardigan.
I really don’t want to go to this class. I despise my teacher—he endlessly rants on about irrelevant personal garbage, like his support of capital punishment and his pedophiliac obsession with this child actor, Peggy Ann Garner. He’s the kind of person that the phrase “kiddie porn dungeon” was invented for.
Next week will be better. Next week will be A Place to Bury Strangers and Junior Boys.
I’m ditching class Nov. 23rd to see Royksopp. The semester will be nearly over by then. Fuck. I need to get this damn class over with.