I wrote you a well composed letter, persuasive and organized, preened to be respectful and concise. I know better than to compose inside the message thing where you can’t save as you go. I got timed out by Etudes and lost it. So I jogged with my dog, cooked salmon tacos (with herbs from my garden,) sulked,
then watched several episodes of Trailer Park Boys.It sounds lame, but I’ve been killing myself doing the work for this class. My boyfriend has been sad for me, my nose in the book and computer constantly, loosing sleep, having no fun. (I had fun this weekend with my friends from SF and in Tahoma. I want more.) I keep assuring him, “I’m enjoying the challenge, I’m succeeding, I can get an A like my other classes this year, I’m almost caught up, then I’ll go have fun, I’m having a sort of fun doing this work, I’ll never get a degree, grow up, succeed in life, if I don’t buckle down and persevere with this work.” But I’m pale and fat, lethargic and stuffy. I gave up on Boot Camp and Afro Cuban dance because I stay up late doing this homework. I haven’t had much fun this year at all. I didn’t snowboard hardly this winter, which is completely against my grain. I haven’t even swum in the lake this summer yet.
I mistakenly thought my fancy mountain bike got stolen again this weekend. Turned out I just left it locked up at work on Fri.
