Under Supervision

Oh, exhaustion. Whenever I find respite, I'm going to be really happy. I'm going to luxuriate. I've a feeling that won't be until December, but then it will be a December to remember.

You'll have to forgive anything that seems lunatic, I've too much to do, so much has been done...so much staring and answering of phones that I am dead in the head. I just wanted to keep up with myself. Whatever you get out of this, congratulations.

So, I have a lot of assignments and I'm not really getting ahead of anything and that is depressing me. I can't feel calm because there's just a road of shit to plow through, a fucking shitty road. That's school, that's life, that's happened a million times before...is what we're saying to one another, knowingly. But it still sucks is what we're replying, with a sigh.

I need to get a job, and a career, or both or, whatever. I need to care about commas, but I just really fucking don't. I care about beautiful words like today's word, or was it yesterday's: bacchanalia. Need, need, need. That's a nice word too. I want to calm down.

I shouldn't have had so many fucking gummy bears.