if i had a 12-step confessional journal, you'd be entries one through one thousand.
walking around campus, everyone i pass smells like cordite. like they are eating candy made from spent shell casings. i keep looking for cigarettes in their mouths but no one is smoking. i can't deduce what is going on, so i keep walking to meindal's office. & i speak with him- things arn't copacetic, not yet, but they may be one step closer. my future is now in the hands of doctor (dr.) seeman. if i can convince him to let me into his archeological analysis class, despite it being full, since now there is no waiting list, meindal will let me substitute prufer's fraud, follies, & ethics course for kinship & natural selection, & then make me take muscular-skeletal to round out my schedule. seeman has office hours tommorow, so i am going to call him today, & walk into his office tommorow with puppy dog eyes. no, scratch that. he might think i was a psycho if i brough him a handful of puppy dog eyes. kittens is the way to go on this one.