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I am going to bed.

I am done my stupid report. That took me longer than the research for the final paper and is only worth five percent. For the class that is interesting in theory but not so much in practice, because ninety percent of the class are second-semester students just barely out of high school where they didn't bother that much in the first place, and have no idea how post secondary is supposed to *work*, and think it's still like high school... though in a perfect world ostensibly second-year classes would not *have* group projects. How I loathe group projects. Six bloody people for a seminar about an eleven-page article. *scoff* My hate is boundless as the dawn.

(Yes, I stole that from shoebox_project, mwahah. It has taken over my brain. ;)

But it's done, and it sucks, but I simply do not care. It is amazing, the degree to which I do not care. The incredible depth and breadth and power of my uncaringness would be visible from Alpha Centauri, and the Romulans would look through their telescopes and go "Man, is that ever an apathetic planet." And then they would never attack the Federation, for fear of the globalistic apathy (because we all know how terribly Globalistic is the Federation) rubbing off like an infection, because we all know how much the Romulans like getting all violent and crotchety. Makes them feel like their lives have meaning.

...

Ohmygods, Woody is a computer nerd (also: six sugars in his coffee *snicker*). That almost tops the coolness of Jordanwithaguitar. Heh. ;)

Also, that Target dog is intensely godsdamned scary. Staring at me.

EDIT: It should be noted that while not *quite* hitting the three-page mark on the pointlessly two-page assignment and presentation, I have managed, through the course of the day (now technically yesterday) to produce almost eleven pages of O, Brave New World, which to date is the least constructive writing venture on my to-do list. It's not even original procrastination. It's not even fic procrastination for the enjoyment of others. No. It's a freakishly obscure multi-crossover form of procrastination that no one but myself and about three others will ever read. *awe*

Fun, though. ;)

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chandri
Chandri MacLeod
Fantasi.net

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