I envy those who could write at will—it’s really something that I wish I could do. Time and time again I just stare at a blank word document and wait for words to flow out of my head, and time and time again I end up closing the doc after writing and deleting several sentences over and over again. Actually, sometimes I don’t even get that far: I’ll just have a blank page. :(

From time to time, I get notifications for comments I’ve received. 

They’re all spam :(

Made it through the worst weekend this year unscathed. It’s surprising, actually, cause I wasn’t freaking out at all the whole time—I finished my papers early, did a fair amount of studying, and even played some Skyrim. 

Of course the fight’s not over. There are a few more weeks of school left, and while I don’t anticipate anything too dramatic, I’ll have all of my finals concentrated within a few days. 

Still, it feels pretty good. I don’t think I have anything stressful to worry about this week. Tomorrow’s also a half day, so I get to screw around and not wonder whether I should be working. 

I wish I could soak my eyeballs inside a glass of water, then pop ‘em back into the sockets so I feel refreshed and ready to get back to work. 

Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s writing is actually great, though—I suppose I don’t mind too much having to stay up for this. Today I had to stay at school for a science seminar symposium, which ended at around 8:15. My friends wanted to eat dinner: I decided to tag along, partially because I just wanted to hang out with them—I hardly get that anymore. There was a nagging feeling that I should probably go home and get extra work done but I felt like this was somewhat important as well. 

I felt sort of embarrassed today at the symposium. Apparently the appropriate attire was “business casual”—I didn’t think it was such a big deal until just barely into the morning someone asked me “you ARE going to change out of that, right?” 

It continued for the rest of the day. Other people who were going to the seminar asked why I didn’t have anything nicer to wear. Not that I was indecent or anything, just not “business casual.” I freaked out for a bit, and seriously considered switching pants with a friend who was wearing jeans dark enough to pass off as dress pants. Another friend told me a teacher was willing to lend me pants if worse came to worst (???)

I sort of wanted to cry at some point—well no, not really, but I felt sorta crappy. I tried not to care because it’d have been too much trouble, but being called “hardly presentable” was a little bit annoying, even as a joke. 

And it turned out that it didn’t matter either way. I could’ve gone in a shirt and shorts—in fact a few people were in a shirt and shorts—and it’d have been fine. Nobody there really cared. 

Sometimes I wish people just wouldn’t say anything.