blame me for the rocks and baby bones. (warwolves) wrote,
blame me for the rocks and baby bones.
warwolves

I went over my schedule for the next two years, pretty much, and I think I'll be okay with just four classes — languages count for an extra two units each, and I need two semesters of one for transfer, anyway, and I'll have to take six classes some semester, but I'll just take metalworking/jewelry or ceramics. CRISIS AVERTED. And Mom felt guilty afterwards*, so we've also established I get a part time job as long as I can balance my grades with it.

This leaves my schedule pretty damn sparkling, honestly. One class on Monday at 4, and two on Tuesday/Thursday at 2 and 4. My schedule is pretty much obscenely empty. Maybe I should start Rosetta Stone for the language I'm going to pick. ... Maybe I should pick which language that will be. For some reason, though, the idea of choosing leaves me with crippling anxiety, which ... isn't a good sign. I don't know. I'll make a panicked post here later.

Life! What is life. I don't know. I think my piercing's a bit infected, but I'm salt-soaking that bitch, and it's already feeling better. I'm getting a second one directly above it on next week. Combined with the pink/turquoise/purple hair, I feel suitably badass**. It's ... kind of ruined by the fact that I've started doing Irish crochet, which is possibly one of the least badass things ever. One of, because it's better than normal crochet, but ... still hook-and-string.

Now to go fuck around into knitting and finish the last day on Devil Survivor 8D

* Which could have been resolved if she hadn't gone all batshit insane in the first place, but whatever!
** Or trying suitably hard enough to be badass. Which is the whole point of it, isn't it?
Tags: real life, school
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