It hates me mightily, and I spent 30 minutes wrestling the computers in the resource lab trying to get Microsoft Word to open my newest story (hereafter known as Banana Trees) without crashing. After eight failed attempts from two different story versions across three computers, I finally got wise and copied the HTML from the Gmail attachment and edited it to the correct format. Then I hit print. Little did I know that the printer was on the fritz, and the person who is supposed to be there to fix it 8 hours a day was conveniently absent. So I got to class late with nothing to show. Fucked. Phillip wasn't pleased and neither was I, but after class I checked in and my story was sitting neatly stacked in a pile next to that printer. So I have a paper copy to edit, and with luck I'll come back Monday with both guns blazing and blow 10 separate asses out with my 3,000 word narrative. If it's as good as I hope, I'm on easy street because the mid-term is 4,000 words of high-quality, well-polished prose, and I have another 3,000 already between The Green Blanket and World Affairs. Sickness. I'm also rasslin' the Medical Services for Hepatitis A shots, though they seem dead set on fucking my April travel plans.
Oh yeah, drinking. Had two shots of brandy over ice before dinner, and half a glass of wine at the neighbors while making fun of Megan and the Bush administration. St. Patrick's Day is fast approaching, and I own nothing green. Thank god no one else in the world pinches you for such a heinous crime.
Drink Count: 3
P.S. I'm going to post a picture a day for the next few days because I'm behind on that and some people are getting antsy.
Check out this mother fucker:
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