Marc
Insomnia, Presentations, and Crapface part II; A Tuesday Night Alone in the Apt.
I have been getting myself entirely too worked up lately about papers and presentations and other schoolwork in general, which somehow led to me staying up way past my bedtime last night. Saying that is kind of misleading as I was in bed by one o'clock, yet didn't fall asleep until nearly five for some unknown reason. It was snowing outside from time to time, and it was icy and shiny and sparkly, and with the lateness and the weirdness of being in bed staring at the wall for so long, I finally just decided to get up and walk around the vacant apartment. With no lights on save the fishtank in the living room, everything felt eerie and out of place, like it was Christmas Eve and I was silently waiting for my parent's to wake up so I could go downstairs and open presents. I think the weather outside had something to do with that. It's so cold around here right now I'm hyperventilating when I walk from point to point, not because I'm out of breath from the walk, but because I'm breathing heavily so I can see my breath every two steps. I'm obsessed with it. The bigger the breath, the larger the exhaled steam (?) or whatever. I could barely get a word together on the way to my eight o'clock this morning. Maybe that had something to do, too, with only sleeping for two hours.
Or maybe the insomnia was brought on by stress. I hate giving speeches, or turning in papers, cause I always know that I can do better. This morning saw me turn in an eight-pager on the Chinese May Fourth Movement. Tomorrow morning will see me present my ten-pager on Yugoslavian/US relations during the Cold War, the Soviet Collapse, and the Consequences it had for Yugoslavia during the Balkan Wars. I talk about Iraq a bit, too. So, that should be fun. I just know I'm going to lose track of what I was saying and mumble and not answer questions correctly, because I really think that I'm faking this shit, to be completely honest. i've always felt like I was faking papers and speeches and schoolwork, for the most part. It's not that I don't care, because I do, but I generally talk about stuff that I don't identify with, or agree with, or whatev. When I do find that rare instance where I'm allowed to discuss something that matters to me, such as political lyrics in "punk" songs (from my English 100 class quite a few years ago), I dig in and chow down. But not on shit like Yugoslavia or China. Sure, they're countries, and whatever, but I honestly don't gravitate towards the learning.
I would rather play with my cat, to be completely honest. Right now it's just me and Crapface hanging out in the apartment. I was going to let him type something out for you all, seeing as how he was walking all over the keyboard just a second ago, but it was just gibberish. I'm going to have to work on teaching that damn cat how to spell. His grammar was simply atrocious. I've taken some funny pictures of the little guy, including one where he's perched on my shoulder like a pirate, and I have what could be considered a beard, so I kind of look like this crazy Cat Pirate guy, cause it's also kind of blurry, and I wasn't smiling cause I took it myself. There's another one where he's stuck in a beer box, which he did to himself, and another where he's hiding behind my guitar. And, by far the cutest one, where he's sitting on my laptop scratching at the monitor, which is showing a Strong Bad cartoon. I don't know if it was the voice or the colors that intrigued him, but he was all over it for about two minutes. It's fun just to have something to play with, and someone that doesn't talk back all that much. That and he's still really stinking cute and tiny, and he's licking my arms right now, even as I type, so maybe I should go and tease him with a sock for a while. Night chumps.
Insomnia, Presentations, and Crapface part II; A Tuesday Night Alone in the Apt.
I have been getting myself entirely too worked up lately about papers and presentations and other schoolwork in general, which somehow led to me staying up way past my bedtime last night. Saying that is kind of misleading as I was in bed by one o'clock, yet didn't fall asleep until nearly five for some unknown reason. It was snowing outside from time to time, and it was icy and shiny and sparkly, and with the lateness and the weirdness of being in bed staring at the wall for so long, I finally just decided to get up and walk around the vacant apartment. With no lights on save the fishtank in the living room, everything felt eerie and out of place, like it was Christmas Eve and I was silently waiting for my parent's to wake up so I could go downstairs and open presents. I think the weather outside had something to do with that. It's so cold around here right now I'm hyperventilating when I walk from point to point, not because I'm out of breath from the walk, but because I'm breathing heavily so I can see my breath every two steps. I'm obsessed with it. The bigger the breath, the larger the exhaled steam (?) or whatever. I could barely get a word together on the way to my eight o'clock this morning. Maybe that had something to do, too, with only sleeping for two hours.
Or maybe the insomnia was brought on by stress. I hate giving speeches, or turning in papers, cause I always know that I can do better. This morning saw me turn in an eight-pager on the Chinese May Fourth Movement. Tomorrow morning will see me present my ten-pager on Yugoslavian/US relations during the Cold War, the Soviet Collapse, and the Consequences it had for Yugoslavia during the Balkan Wars. I talk about Iraq a bit, too. So, that should be fun. I just know I'm going to lose track of what I was saying and mumble and not answer questions correctly, because I really think that I'm faking this shit, to be completely honest. i've always felt like I was faking papers and speeches and schoolwork, for the most part. It's not that I don't care, because I do, but I generally talk about stuff that I don't identify with, or agree with, or whatev. When I do find that rare instance where I'm allowed to discuss something that matters to me, such as political lyrics in "punk" songs (from my English 100 class quite a few years ago), I dig in and chow down. But not on shit like Yugoslavia or China. Sure, they're countries, and whatever, but I honestly don't gravitate towards the learning.
I would rather play with my cat, to be completely honest. Right now it's just me and Crapface hanging out in the apartment. I was going to let him type something out for you all, seeing as how he was walking all over the keyboard just a second ago, but it was just gibberish. I'm going to have to work on teaching that damn cat how to spell. His grammar was simply atrocious. I've taken some funny pictures of the little guy, including one where he's perched on my shoulder like a pirate, and I have what could be considered a beard, so I kind of look like this crazy Cat Pirate guy, cause it's also kind of blurry, and I wasn't smiling cause I took it myself. There's another one where he's stuck in a beer box, which he did to himself, and another where he's hiding behind my guitar. And, by far the cutest one, where he's sitting on my laptop scratching at the monitor, which is showing a Strong Bad cartoon. I don't know if it was the voice or the colors that intrigued him, but he was all over it for about two minutes. It's fun just to have something to play with, and someone that doesn't talk back all that much. That and he's still really stinking cute and tiny, and he's licking my arms right now, even as I type, so maybe I should go and tease him with a sock for a while. Night chumps.
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