Those of you who actually read this thing must be wondering if I had fallen off the face of the earth. If you're my mother, you actually wrote to me in an email: "Did the cows crap and the pigs eat you? I haven't heard from you in forever." I'm still waiting for someone to explain to me how I can consciously get eaten by a pig. Then I realized that my mother must be spending more time with my sister, because I expect something like that from her. She comes up with the best stuff. For example, "Holy crap on a cracker, Batman." Come on, you can't buy stuff like that.
I've been trying to get a solid handle on things. But I think I've come to the realization that I might not have a solid handle on things, that I might just have to settle for something more or less along the lines of clinging on for dear life. As long as I have a two-handed hold and am in no danger of being bucked under an oncoming bus or something, I'm okay with this. It's actually not a bad way to live. Might be hell on my blood pressure, my stress level might not love me, and my psoriasis might pick this time to say, "hey, winter's coming, bring on the constant itchiness so people look at you oddly." Or, more oddly than normal.
And, as usual, my novel seems to want to pour itself out of my head and onto paper faster than I can possibly get it. Rather, more accurately, wants to pour itself out when I don't have the time to really sit and get it out.
Which reminds me that I really need to transcribe my acting essay before I have to go meet my lab proposal group at o'dark thirty. Then get some semblance of sleep and be up and functional for class at 7:30. First thing to go is my contacts at the moment, because my eyes are starting to burn. Well, not really burn, but more or less get fuzzy in a way. Like my contacts are moving around when they really shouldn't be. This is nothing new. It happens when I get tired.
I've actually gotten more comfortable wandering around in my glasses. I used to not really like it. It's more or less a fact of life now, the amount of time I spend in a chemistry lab where, not only do we do things that would be considered a felony in your garage, but we also use chemicals that could melt your contacts to your eyes.
Would solve the problem of not having 20/20 vision, but probably hurt like hell.
If you can't tell, I'm getting to the point where I'm punchy. Which means the less of a filter there is between my brain and my mouth. I imagine the same thing happens when I ingest too much alcohol. I speculate here because, quite honestly, I've never been drunk and don't intend to start anytime soon. And, if everything goes according to plan, I'll be in Wales when I turn 21 next fall. If it doesn't go according to plan, I'll be in the US when I turn 21, and hopefully will be in Wales that spring. Either way, I hope to be in Wales sometime next year, for study abroad.
So, not that I haven't had more than enough caffeine today, I'm going to go make myself some more tea (or drink the mug of cold stuff on my dresser) and get crackin' on the homework that I still have to do, and can't put off until tomorrow. (Which means that it's due tomorrow. That's usually how that works.) And this is the part where Louise insists she's not a procrastinator and the audience snorts in a "Yeah, right" kind of way, and life continues on as normal.
Therefore, in the words of Tim Gunn, "Carry on and make it work." (Which is more of a combination, but you get the idea.)