Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Pissant Units of Time

My life is generally filled with periods of work, school, and driving back and forth between those two ventures. Every now and then, I get some time at home to eat, relax, and then cry myself to sleep. Just kidding- the Percocets I pop every night tend to dry me out. But the sadness is real. Very real.

If I ever do get any free time during the day, it's pissant time- time that's too short to do anything worthwhile yet too long to be convenient. For example, today I have and hour and a half break between classes. Pure pissant time. By the time I left, it would be time to turn around. So that's out. It's not long enough to even study (haha) because by the time you get into something, you've got to head to class.

So what is a person to do? I usually just sit in a corner and tremble a lot. Of course, that's probably due to the Percocets. But I started taking them to get off of cigarettes, so that makes it okay. Because the possibility of lung cancer is far worse than mania and a numbing sense of consciousness. Right?

I can't feel my fingers- I should probably stop and go to the hospogijdjdgk;olkds,,,,,,,,,,,gargle.

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