zan: (Basic: SWEAR)
Are there any English majors who might understand what I mean by 'tracking tropes' in novels willing to look over a paper for me this Wednesday or Thursday? I apparently just don't get it and it's completely frustrating me. Mostly because I need an A on this final paper if I want to get a B for the class and I've been getting nothing but C's.
zan: (Default)
Got an A in Linguistics by the skin of my teeth. Next up, food and home and studying for...something. <.
zan: (Default)
Last night I had a dream. Yes, this is actually kind of surprising as I only tend to have dreams in clusters every few months. I actually dreamed that I was taking my Honors Seminar final and not only did I forget to bring the PDF's with me for everyone, I completely freaked out when it comes to timing when I'm going to change what I'm writing in order to do something else.

In short, I'm worried about the final and it's in a week and a day.

Also, I'm not sold on my glasses. I'm going to give myself an hour to try to get adjusted to them (as I just woke up), but if they're going to give me a headache and annoy me, I'm going to have to go back to my original glasses. Just for another week.

I know I've been a bit of a bitch the last few weeks and I apologize to pretty much everyone. All I can say is that it'll be over soon, for better or worse.
zan: (Other: What the Fuck)
Let's set the scene.

Friday, I had class, grabbed a coffee, and went to study and do tags. I grabbed BK and about three minutes in, my stomach decided to be majorly unhappy with me. To the point where I didn't think I'd be able to ride the entire way home, let alone bike home from the bus.

So I asked for a ride.

Sunday afternoon, I come back to campus to have an appointment with my partner for an oral Linguistics report. Things go fine, I go back to study for a few hours, and leave twenty minutes before the bus is supposed to show. It gives me time to stop, grab a soda, and grab my bike.

Except there is no bike.

I have a routine and sometimes I mix it up, so I look in the three or four spots I normally park it. Nothing. I look again and then a third time. Absolutely nothing.

This is the point I call the police.

So, as far as I know, my bike's been stolen. I'm going to look tomorrow again every since conceivable spot that I could have parked it, just to make sure that I didn't try a shortcut, but I'm pretty sure I parked it where I always do, which means it's gone.

Then (oh, did you think that was the only thing to happen, silly person?) [ profile] bugly42's parents take me out to this amazing Italian restaurant to cheer me up. The food is always great and I order what I always get: spaghettini with baby clams in red sauce. It takes about fifteen minutes to get our salads and there are onions on them. Rob (the dad) is allergic to onions and the salads go back. Then Sherry (the mom) finds an onion in her salad and it goes back. The third time her salad comes back, it has blue cheese instead of ranch.

The manager comes over and, while he's talking, Rob realizes that while he didn't taste the onion, he must have had some. Did I mention he's violently allergic? No, he doesn't die or have to go to the hospital, but that's only because he caught it before he could have any more.

Really, this weekend can just end right now.
zan: (Basic: Studying)
I just want to say a preemptive 'I'm sorry' because I know that I might be a little bitchy and snappish during the next three weeks. Finals are coming up and I'm extremely worried about them. I'm sure I'll do fine and everything, but right now I'm beyond stressed and I know that I tend to inadvertently take that out on other people. I'll try my best not to, but if I do, this is me apologizing profusely.

*Buries her head back in the sand*

December 2014

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