Done!

I mailed off my final paper of the term today. I've been complaining most about the commute this quarter, due mainly to the half-hour roll through Everett rush hour and the assholes contained therein, so I tried to convince myself that I felt like it was over last Thursday. But, as soon as I walked out the post office and no longer had any kind of assignment hanging over my head, I felt free.

I mean, I can read Ultimate X-Men or this weird Twelve bullshit that has sucked me in today from that little prick McDonell I mean where does he get off publishing a novel at seventeen damn but if that doesn't make me understand how women feel when the little hottie can actually sing y'know? Where was I? Oh, yeah, I can do that without guilt. There's nothing else I should (shudder) be doing. The opportunity cost for anything my fancy might strike has dropped.

I see a first ever watching of Firefly on the horizon, some throwing down with this Haruki Murakami novel that's been teasing me from the shelf, fuck yeah.

Of course, I'll always have my friggin' blog to make me feel guilty, but I was raised WASP, whattya want?