Today, for the first time, I had it put into my head that I might just be a good writer. Maybe there's something there, after all. I volunteered myself for hours of unpaid letter-writing ( persuasive letters, ya'll--it's creative), and decided that tomorrow I'm going to read Emma...all of it. I'm not worried.
I think I'm giving up the diner down the block for Lent, and for life. It's really sad that I can get French fries at 3 AM...and even more sad that I will get cheese fries at 3 AM.
I really love life right now. I've got great friends. Some crazy guys like me or something. I am pretty much guaranteed to have an awesome spring break. And---I've stopped caring about the rest. I exist for the next 2 papers, the midterm, and the 5 AM wake-up call from the car outside my building on Monday.