I got about fifteen minutes until I have to get ready for work, and by rights I ought to be working on a paper. But I just want to say: Stupid work. I’ve asked, pleaded, begged them to cut my days down so I can finish the semester. Each time they say, oh, yes, okay. Then the schedule comes out, and they’ve got me for five days a week. I am a freaking part-timer, do not give me full-time hours. Yesterday I looked at the schedule for next week, and they have me for six days. Motherfuckers. If I give them my two weeks notice, then by the time I leave I will have graduated, and can work whatever hours they want.

You can tell me stories about how you worked two full-time jobs, went to school and still took care of a screaming brat. Good for you. I’m lazier than that.

After a week of homework, papers, and studying for that goddamn midterm, I’m back home. Sweet, sweet computer. How I’ve missed you. I don’t even feel guilty because I spent my day off yesterday writing the final draft of one paper, and the outline for another. I got a B+ on my first midterm of the semester, and that is pretty damn good considering I was praying for anything over a C-.

I’m so sick of school, and the funny part about that is I want to get my Masters. Money is a big problem, and unless I get some tuition waivers or something, graduate school will have to wait until I’ve saved up some moolah. Of course, what do you do with a Masters that you can’t do with a Bachelors? Answer: teach at Punahou rather than Nanakuli.

Sounds good to me.

Oh yeah–I’m a flippery fish. Or something.

Damn, I wish I spoke Japanese. At least more than saying, “please forgive my tardiness.” (What I said at the beginning of every Japanese class from high school.

For your viewing pleasure, a video. I laughed so hard, I had to blow my nose.

Adam showed me this. I knew there was a reason to watch nature docs.

Talk Like A Pirate Day is coming up. Don’t forget (like I do every year).

That is all.