Considering how much I dislike people judging me, this blog seems like a righteously shitty idea. But I don’t care too much at this point because I’m in one of my moods. This is the mood when everything seems like a great idea. It’s odd I feel this way; I usually have to drink like an Irish coal miner to feel this brave. I get into a shit ton of trouble when this wild hare runs up my ass, but occasionally something good will come of it. Fingers crossed in the hopes of my not falling into the ordinary with this shindig because who wants to read about normal shit?
A conversation from today:
Adviser: Jessica, what are your goals in life?
Me: To get by on as little as possible to sustain my happiness.
Adviser: That’s vague.
Me: Fasten your seat belt, old man. I wanna live in sin. I wanna drink my coffee with liquor in it. I wanna wear shitty clothes but smell like a million bucks. I wanna have the option to do bumps of cocaine off a hooker’s ass and have my pick of a husband from already married men. I’ve come to realize that if I don’t plan for this kind of life, I’m in for mediocrity and normalcy. I figured if I can get within a stone’s throw of this shit show, I’ll be right where I wanna be. Can you approve my classes now?
Adviser: You should’ve been a writer. See me in a few weeks; I can approve your schedule then. Anything else…?
Me: Nope. Hell is full and the Devil walks among us. Gotta get coffee with him in five. Tootles.
You know, I think the old codger likes me. He definitely doesn’t believe in me and my endeavors to become a doctor (that old fuck), but I think he appreciates my no-bullshit attitude. Or maybe I remind him of his half Asian children whose photos adorn his walls along with the covers of science-y magazines. I doubt they visit him anymore. It would explain why he seems so bitter. Perhaps my mandatory advisory meetings with him are the closest things he has to visiting with his spawn. God, I hope I never end up in his shoes. He wears worn out New Balance. I bought Nike Free Run 5.0’s yesterday.