So I'm terribly ashamed of being a procrastinator.
Like I intended to work on my paper all Tuesday. Then Tuesday became Wednesday and I was all, "I'm going knock this shit DOWN!11" but then I didn't and passed out at midnight with a half-page outline. Then I woke up at 6am and frantically worked on it, didn't finish, showed up 40 minutes late to my 8am final, and I'm sitting in the library now. Blogging.
It's a 3 page paper about Stiglitz. Stiglitz! That man like the Gabriel of Globalization, whose hymns and proclamations I've sewn into my little earth-shaped heart. But alas it was an assignment, and I don't do those.
The thing is I know I'm good at writing papers, and I'm good at bullshitting bullshit Anthro finals, so it's just more incentive for me to procrastinate. So, cushioned by this arrogance, I breeze up to the last few hours and then stress the fuck out. I don't like this. Gaahhh. I need to stop.
I need to stop blogging, holy shit.
But my mum just gave me this $75 gift card for Target and with the new Rodarte collection coming out next week omg. I know nowhere else to shout these exaltations, except here, this little hole in a tree. I shall cover it up with mud now, and fly free. Am I rhyming? hm.
also today I am 21. it is not so much a feeling of liberation and freedom so much as it is a feeling that I am growing older, and I have all these plans, and I won't be done with them, won't be really truly an adult, until I'm like... 27. Or 28. i want to join the Peace Corps, and I want to do a masters too. And then what? :( I shall stop making plans, and just get drunked up like other 21 year olds.