Registered for classes. 18 hours spread between Water Tower Campus and Lake Shore Campus. One day has four classes over eleven hours with travel time in between.
Communications, communications, english, english, theater, and philosophy.
8 page paper due tomorrow in Communication. Haven’t started yet. Am probably going to fail, but if I at least get a C, I’ll be satisfied. Isn’t that sad? Happy to see a C. I know.
But I did the math, and if I get As in all my other classes (which might happen) I’ll get a 3.6 this semester, which is better than last and certainly not horrible.
And if I get two Bs, a C, and two As then I’ll have a 3.2, unless my calculations, hastily scribbled on a Chipotle receipt are off. Which they might be. I’m currently in Hinduism, my head cocked to one side, pretending to listen.
Jazz concert at Columbia tonight.
New tenant on the couch at Ryan’s. My spot is gone, but he let me have it last night, and he slept on the floor. How very nice of him, really.
Off to watch Good Will Hunting and analyze every little bit of it.
Still no word on getting home. No apartment. Dreams are crushed. Really, does it matter? We should just box my stuff up and leave it on the street and hope it’s still there after summer. Who cares?