Chapter 4: An ever-growing thing

A quick one tonight. My fingers are killin'.

I took yesterday off after all. It was a pretty ballsy move on my part but one I'm proud of. The truth is, my alarm went off at 6:45, and I thought for a minute before I came to the conclusion that I felt like utter shit and couldn't possibly haul my ass out of bed and down to Toronto that day. I had done too much over the weekend and would benefit from a day off. So I slept until 9 or so and then went about my business. After coffee, I cracked open the books and pored right through Descartes' first four meditations. I jotted down my ideas for my essay and of course did all my other writing. It was a big day and I was damn proud of what I did. I even dropped a message to a friend from class to see if I missed anything, and she assured me I was better off sleeping.

Eric was away all day, as after school he went to Toronto to see a taping of The Hour. So I made dinner and nearly got my ass blowed up on the BBQ. Okay, I didn't really, but I did have trouble with the propane tank, in that I had left it on when I thought it was off before lighting the damn thing.

Today was an average tuesday. Cinema studies, Astronomy, lunch of the way in, dinner with dad when I get home... writing in between. Hell, I even wrote my "frist draft" (which will probably be very close to my final draft) of my 4-7 page paper comparing Dora to Pride and Prejudice. It needs to be bulkier, and there's time for that. I've really gotta start knocking these projects back. hopefully I've got time on the weekend. Otherwise, I could take another monday off... (probably not. Extenuating circumstances!)

Everybody always wants to know "what is the world coming to?" Am I the only one who wants to know, "What has it come from?"

For reasons that shouldn't be hard to discern, I've been feeling good all week. I've got a good energy about me and that shuold probably last a few more days, maybe a week. Then I might be back to my bummed old self, so I'm enjoying this while it lasts. I discovered why my shoelace felt so long. There was a hidden notch I'd missed while lacing it, and going back to it shortened the lace considerably. I wish I'd thought to check while I still had both aglets. I briefly considered handing in a poem called "Sympathy for a Busted Aglet."

Even the chill ain't got me down.

Man, life can be good, even when it ain't really. You've just gotta know what to appreciate.

Fingers sore. Haha. Keep on rockin'
-Yer Scotto