IV: Seeking a bird of prey

The world is still a messy place and I am still unmotivated to write.

Jessica T. described it as "Stressmas." Idon't know that stress is what's causing my little crisis, but I doubt it could be helping. A sort of irritation with the excessive burden of existence is the best way I can put it man. But I'm not in low spirits. All I need is to relax.

I've got this debate tomorrow in History. It's kind of a fake debate and I have to be the NDP and argue about Afghanistan. I've made some notes, but basically it's "Afghanistan is a shitty situation and it's everyone's fault but NDP's. Harper sucks Bush all night long."

So it's gotten cold. This should be surprising to exactly no-one.

I was looking over Gen Ed options for next semester, which are even slimmer pickings than this one. Basically it's a choice between learning about Vampires, drugs, or writing about myself.

...that's right. One of the classes is about writing about yourself. How appropo, as the kids say. Wait, no, kids don't talk like that. Shit, my brain's even more messed up than I assumed.

I wonder how long before I become sick of Christmas commercials. I seem to be coping fine so far, but this time next week, who knows?

Life oughtta work itself out soon. I had a conversation yesterday with Haasim along those lines, deciding what to do with the future. And me, man, I still got no clue. I can only take life as it comes, one step at a time.

I've just gotta get out of this rut. Keep on rockin'
-Scott