I Think That Means The Building's On Fire
I'm seriously screwed if I don't get a computer pretty much by Saturday. Hello, credit card debt!!
I took the midterm for that horrible distance learning class this morning. Thanks to Nordin for suggesting that I read the Chapter Summaries instead of throwing myself out the window. I have the worst study skills in the world. On the other hand, there were only a couple of questions I genuinely didn't know the answers to, and I shot for half-credit on one of the short answer essays because I could only remember part of the info. But I'd estimate I came out of it with no less than an A-. Which is embarrassing for all of us, considering how much more time I spent screwing up than studying.
I think my boss hates Sunset Rubdown and I'm listening to it anyway. Viva la revolucion!
I may have given the impression in my interview for this job that I am familiar with Microsoft Outlook, which frankly is just a lie. But I don't want to tell them that so I'm cobbling together the knowledge via experimentation, while pretending the whole time that I know what I'm doing. Thank God Outlook is fairly basic, but I hate being a Pretender.
Does anyone else have one of those students in their classes? You know, the ones that are much older than everybody else, that sit right down front and that talk to the professor like they are the only ones in the class? I have a guy who wants to talk about the social construction of personal truth when the rest of us are trying to remember what Freud said about oral fixations. Oh, and don't think he doesn't constantly bring up his real job, either.
Also, Freud is total bullshit, and anyone who disagrees with me can suck my dream cigar.
My Duluth grandpa died last Friday. It wasn't a surprise, he'd had Alzheimer's for as long as I've known him (since 1999. In case we've not discussed this, he's not my real grandfather, but he might as well be. I've seen him more frequently than I've ever seen my real grandparents.) I'm hopefully rushing upstate for his memorial service on Wednesday, providing the weather holds and my ride doesn't bail.
I have so much reading to do.
I took the midterm for that horrible distance learning class this morning. Thanks to Nordin for suggesting that I read the Chapter Summaries instead of throwing myself out the window. I have the worst study skills in the world. On the other hand, there were only a couple of questions I genuinely didn't know the answers to, and I shot for half-credit on one of the short answer essays because I could only remember part of the info. But I'd estimate I came out of it with no less than an A-. Which is embarrassing for all of us, considering how much more time I spent screwing up than studying.
I think my boss hates Sunset Rubdown and I'm listening to it anyway. Viva la revolucion!
I may have given the impression in my interview for this job that I am familiar with Microsoft Outlook, which frankly is just a lie. But I don't want to tell them that so I'm cobbling together the knowledge via experimentation, while pretending the whole time that I know what I'm doing. Thank God Outlook is fairly basic, but I hate being a Pretender.
Does anyone else have one of those students in their classes? You know, the ones that are much older than everybody else, that sit right down front and that talk to the professor like they are the only ones in the class? I have a guy who wants to talk about the social construction of personal truth when the rest of us are trying to remember what Freud said about oral fixations. Oh, and don't think he doesn't constantly bring up his real job, either.
Also, Freud is total bullshit, and anyone who disagrees with me can suck my dream cigar.
My Duluth grandpa died last Friday. It wasn't a surprise, he'd had Alzheimer's for as long as I've known him (since 1999. In case we've not discussed this, he's not my real grandfather, but he might as well be. I've seen him more frequently than I've ever seen my real grandparents.) I'm hopefully rushing upstate for his memorial service on Wednesday, providing the weather holds and my ride doesn't bail.
I have so much reading to do.
spit at you by Nil at 1:36 PM
1 Comments:
Good spelling. I was a licensed speller once, but my license was revoked due to reckless spelling while drunk texting.
Como is cold. Like the rest of Minneapolis. But oh so much closer to the action than my former West Bank residences. How's living across from Burrito Loco? If I lived there, I'd make myself a nice, stiff g&t and spend the night watching drunken people stumble onto the street from the window.
Naturally, everyone is talking about me. But if you and Meghan get tired of that, try discussing drunken injuries. You both have had a few.
Somehow, I managed to make myself sound like an alcoholic and mentioned the word "drunk" in every paragraph...
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