My philosophy exam is in 16 hours and I've hardly cracked open a book; I attribute this gross neglect of my own academic welfare to a number of things: the weather, the fact that a lot of my friends and floormates are probably home and sitting by their Christmas trees already, a deep-rooted dislike of London Ontario, the harrowing decision of "to order a pizza or not to order a pizza," my discarded dreams of law school, my whacked-out sleep schedule, &c.
I want to be ordering Chinese with Steph or Dawson. Or singing songs in the car with J & K. Or breaking into Fort George with the boys. Or anything.
I want real life to go away.
I want to go home.
(Edit: Turns out that, in spite of my pseudo-rebellious school-related apathy, I finished third from the top on my Anthro final. Pizza is now justified as a celebratory feast. I feel much better.)



