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lost cause
Last night I dreamt an entire episode of BSG.
I feel it is tribute to what I have come to expect from Ron D. Moore that even five minutes after waking up, it still seemed like a plausible plotline.
~
I am spattered in dried water-and-flour from sticking up choir posters, the network has slowed to a crawl because it's O Week and everyone is enrolling, my Ecology of Health & Disease course is mostly group assignments (a fact which hurts the elitist bitch inside me DEEPLY) and I have to go and talk to a nice man who wants to attack my wisdom teeth with a sharp pointy thing.
But all this MATTERS LITTLE because I'm having a pretty day, my music video is the shiniest thing in the world (although Q is getting utterly sick of the song), and my scholarship money came through.
Finally.
I am going to go SHOPPING and BUY STUFF like mascara, sports bras, DVDs and iced chai lattes. And a little black cocktail dress, because I'm feeling sodding indulgent and there's a cocktail party coming up and surely, it's breaking some kind of unwritten feminine rule that I do not own a little black dress.
I feel it is tribute to what I have come to expect from Ron D. Moore that even five minutes after waking up, it still seemed like a plausible plotline.
~
I am spattered in dried water-and-flour from sticking up choir posters, the network has slowed to a crawl because it's O Week and everyone is enrolling, my Ecology of Health & Disease course is mostly group assignments (a fact which hurts the elitist bitch inside me DEEPLY) and I have to go and talk to a nice man who wants to attack my wisdom teeth with a sharp pointy thing.
But all this MATTERS LITTLE because I'm having a pretty day, my music video is the shiniest thing in the world (although Q is getting utterly sick of the song), and my scholarship money came through.
Finally.
I am going to go SHOPPING and BUY STUFF like mascara, sports bras, DVDs and iced chai lattes. And a little black cocktail dress, because I'm feeling sodding indulgent and there's a cocktail party coming up and surely, it's breaking some kind of unwritten feminine rule that I do not own a little black dress.