Robot Band Tune
Jul. 19th, 2011 01:33 amNow here's a habit I'd like to break. Staying up far too late because of procrastination and reluctance. Fucking computer. Except it's not the computer, it's just me, clicking link after link in a bid to keep going, keep going, find something new, don't face the responsibilities, keep going, and then finally there's me saying out loud, "Stop, stop," and I finally have to do something. So now I'm here, writing.
This is a good group. Lot of alumni who know the score. Want to sleep in tomorrow and let some of the interns take the slack. Getting up today to make breakfast wasn't terribly fun.
...Maybe our cook won't be back tomorrow.
Would I have to make breakfast again? Fucking hope not. He should be back. I hope he is. If he isn't... well, I guess I'll just have to get woken up at 7:30 by people saying that breakfast hasn't been made yet. Fuck.
Sometimes this school just gets by on rubber bands and duct tape, I swear to god. And then someone steals the duct tape.
I don't want to get up tomorrow, but I know that tomorrow's a better day.
I don't want to work, but I know I'll feel good when it's done.
Tomorrow's another day.
Tomorrow's another...
This is a good group. Lot of alumni who know the score. Want to sleep in tomorrow and let some of the interns take the slack. Getting up today to make breakfast wasn't terribly fun.
...Maybe our cook won't be back tomorrow.
Would I have to make breakfast again? Fucking hope not. He should be back. I hope he is. If he isn't... well, I guess I'll just have to get woken up at 7:30 by people saying that breakfast hasn't been made yet. Fuck.
Sometimes this school just gets by on rubber bands and duct tape, I swear to god. And then someone steals the duct tape.
I don't want to get up tomorrow, but I know that tomorrow's a better day.
I don't want to work, but I know I'll feel good when it's done.
Tomorrow's another day.
Tomorrow's another...
steals the duct tape...
Date: 2011-07-19 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-22 09:25 am (UTC)Love, Dad