So I was up until 1:00 last night working on my English paper that we've been working on for quite a long time. I'm and idiot, I don't know how or in what world I would put things like this off for so long. Speaking of which, still not done with the paper. I decided to skip yoga and class this morning to finish it up. I tell myself this is because sleep last night was way more important (as a skier) then finishing my paper. The class I'm skipping is one that I actually only have once a week, and she specifically told us not to miss it . . . but I haven't skipped all semester and she's a pushover. All she was going to talk about for three and a half hours was our food memoir paper, probably share some examples and give us a trillion pointless handouts. I'll just go in and talk with her Monday, or ask a classmate the specifics of the assignment. It's like she could just give us an assignment sheet and a due date, or she could talk about it in circles for the whole damn class period. So, I've made the executive decision to NOT attend, and it feels so good! I have five and a half hours to complete this, I think it will happen easily, but I can't always be sure of my dedication to a dumb paper and not to everything else the Internet has to offer, like blogs :)

So I'm in the basement of my little house listening to "One More Time" by Daft Punk and drinking a mocha/coffee that I would definitely get shit for drinking. I don't understand that dumb stigma on people who don't drink their coffee black. So I like things a little sweet, what's the big deal? The basement is quite nice, it's a whole separate space that I don't have to worry about as many distractions, and I was able to do five loads of laundry last night as I worked. This is a testament to my laziness over the past few weeks, five loads is extreme, never have I done that much laundry before, thank goodness I have a lot of clothes and have started going commando so I don't have to worry about clean underwear. I didn't even do any white, because I want to wait to wash my chef's white with them in bleach. I've started with the bleach to keep my whites whiter. But I don't suppose it really works all that well on pit stained old t-shirts and socks that I've worn running in the mud for the past six years (I really do have a couple pairs of usable six year old sock, NewBalance, they are wonderful and perfect).

This is a good sign, my coffee is kicking in and I'm tripping over my fingers far less than usual as I type, so paper writing bodes well. Funny, as I said that I must have backspaced no less than 20 times, oh well. Well, in the spirit of my paper and in closing. . . Share the road out there, especially you dumb Marquetters.

Caitlin