#5: Rage against the dying of the light

The worst part is, I realized last night that now is pretty much the exact worst time to quit.

I hate the holidays for that. For whatever reason people feel like Christmas is a good time to go bowling, and employers don't like to hire at this time of year. Still, I'm going to be sprucing up my resume soon because I don't expect to get a Valentine's day card from Classic Bowl.

I woke up this morning, about an hour ago, with this intense, profound feeling of dread. It's insane. I was suddenly overcome by fear and loathing about all my school work and my work-work. It's not as bad as my brain is telling me, but my brain tells me it's really, really, really bad.

Last night was the Classic Bowl Christmas party. What can I say? It didn't utterly suck although it wouldn't have been such a bad thing for me if I'd been able to stay in. I got there and felt in a panic, since it ws at Mandarin and I don't like tp eat in public with people too much. I ended up eating minimally which may have seemed odd to anyone around, since I left for the buffet, returned like 10 minutes later with a plate of rice (I ate other stuff too, but I went back for that after I felt better having eaten the rice.) I also managed to catch a glimpse of last night's Arrested Development on the TV, but only a few minutes' worth. Then I bowled a few games with James and Faria (the lovely bartender, my only real ally there,) and called to go home about a half hour later than intended (since bowling had taken so long to get underway, I figured on bowling two games.) Came home to the usual mess and finished my Prime Ministers paper.

So that's one less thing I need to worry about, leaving... four? No, five.

Erm. Screwed. Don't know how I'd feel about coming very close to failing one class. All I would do is just miss one assignment. Sigh... it's a tricky situation.

As you might imagine, Journalism people are very big on deadlines. That's kind of the point.

Life may be more trouble than it's worth. Gotta persevere though. Gotta get them grades, man, go on, do that newspaper (for which there is a meeting tomorrow... joy.) Gotta do the work, graduate and figure out where I belong in this world.

No, I know where I belong, I just need to figure out how to get there.

Crisis? What crisis?

Keep on rockin'-
Scott Williams is crazy

ADDENDUM 12:25: Oh yeah and I told Jess that I'd mention her and Angela in my next post. And they deserve it. I almost miss their ridiculous questions. Almost, that is. That was a simpler, happier time. Oh, the days...

-KOR/SAW