Before the stuff happens:

Just a quick blog before I have the band practice that is tommorow night at the bodega that happens with glee. I have been enjoying waving my hands in the faces of friends and co-workers and complete strangers and shouting "WEDNESDAY!" to remind people. Of course, many people didn't know what I was reminding them of. But im a busy person, and if they don't know then Im not going to tell them.
Childish, yes, but it works for me.
Anyway, it has been nine (9) days since I last posted and if people aren't thinking that I am dead then you should be. Not that I was. But the last half week was pretty much a no-go for me. I had things to do, people to see, exhibitions to attend, parties to dance naked at.... and what I actually accomplished was a whole lot of fuck all. Just stayed in bed mostly. Not alot indeed.
But on the bright side, I got an "A" for an assignment, a grade that I contested because I thought that it was too high but apparently I am actually good at essays. My horn that I have been blowing has not been blown with hot air. This is good. This next essay I am actually going to try, get a draft done and have someone proof it and then re-write it. Yes I know, these are familiar words to some of you, but I finish my BA at the end of this trimester and I'll be damned if I am going to go to teachers college without the warm glow of satisfaction that I beleive an A+ will bring.
Also, work and school has started up again which forces me to do things. Perhaps not the things that I have to do, but things none the less. I have tidied part of my room, done some washing and almost finished a couple of short stories. Not too bad me thinks. And tommorow night shall, with our ten song set, hopefully lift me to new highs of grand feeling-ness and leave me motvated and eager to do everything I possibly can, at least after the hangover goes away.
Man, is all I do moan and whine? Perhaps. But Lymph means "pure water". Put that in an essay. People love big words.

Also, I knicked three paninis from work today! Go tomorows lunch! I am sure my George Forman grill will help me knock out that excess fat. I whish I'd George Forman'd that pie I had for breakky/lunch/dinner (Just the one for all three, thank you) because man it tasted like poo. But what is it about those pastry wrapped, easilly held, warm parcels of meat that tempt us every time? Who knows. Who knows. Do you know? I thought knot.

There goes the text message for my ride. See you tomorow night.