work

In the middle of the night I call your name

Oh, Yoko.

I am stressed out. Lord. I’m trying to pin down at least one story (I’m working on two) today for Monday’s issue. If I don’t contact the lottery commission media lady by 4, it’s doomed. And naturally, the contact I need to make on campus for the other story is AWOL. It wouldn’t be so bad if we had some other hard news for Monday, but we really don’t. It will be hell to lay out two stories and a photo and make that fill up the front page. Ick.

Of course, this is just work. There’s schoolwork awaiting my attention. I’ve got a research paper/presentation I should be working on, as well as a group design project for which I’ve been appointed the leader. That’s just in one class. I’ve got a shit-ton of reading for Lesbian Studies and Philosopy of Language. And three presentations in POL to prepare. Too bad I don’t understand anything we’re doing right now, and am behind in the reading already.

It seems like I have one more class… Oh right, Kubrick films. Well, it’s not kicking my ass. Yet, anyway. But it will. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll have to begin searching for meaning pretty soon in every fade-out, repititious score and clunky piece of dialogue.

Well, I guess it only makes sense that my busy ass would be New York City if I were a city. See? This here test proves it.


Congratulations, you’re New York City, the Big Apple.
What US city are you? Take the quiz by Girlwithagun
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I’m down with living in New York for a short time, but I honestly don’t think I could hack it for the long haul. I need more than a park to experience nature. And ferrets are illegal in the city. WTF? That’s no place for me.