I'm supposed to be doing a paper that's due tomorrow. But I don't feel like it. There's the prospect of snowfall tomorrow, and it gives me this little cheery feeling that school just might be out.
Today was...interesting, but mundane. I've noticed that all the days are starting to blend together in one bland mush. I can't remember what day I did what, and where I was, or who was with me. The weeks have just turned into flavorless gloop.
On the bright side, the weekends are always something to look forward to. The bright spots on my calendar, the weekends. I get a warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think about them. The weekends are when I have leisure time, when talk isn't dominated by math problems and literary analysis. Freedom.
For some strange, inexplicable reason, I am happy. Not overly, hyperactive happy. But more of a quiet, reflecting, inner happiness. I feel content enough to sit here, under the bare bulb of my computer room, and do absolutely nothing.
You...you want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey! That's a pretty good idea! I'll give you the moon, Mary. ... Then you can swallow it, and it'll all dissolve see, and the moonbeams would shoot out of your fingers and your toes and the ends of you hair ...
It's a wonderful life, isn't it?
