Yeah, sick angst. I have soooo much sick angst. So much, in fact, that if it were all compiled into one volume, you couldn't lift it. But if you did by some chance lift it, and slammed someone else in the head with it, then they would get a concussion and DIE.
...So yeah. I'm tired of writing sick angst. And I'm sure you're tired of reading it. So I'm not going to write any today. I'm out from school for about the millionth time--it is what it is.
I have so much collegey stuff to do, though. *-* I suppose if I were more coherent, being home so much would be a great opportunity for getting things done.
I keep wanting to write 'opportunity' as 'oppurtunity'...but that's incorrect and maybe it has something to do with the root 'port'? Carry? Gate? Maybe it's like 'a gate through which you can do something'. :D Maybe.
I am going to go stare out the window until my brain clears. In the meantime--
If you haven't already, request holiday pictures from me! Please! I don't care if I barely know you; I don't care if I -don't- know you, and you just happened to come across my journal in your travels. Request anything you want, within reason, and I'll draw it! I like requests. I like detailed requests. They give my life purpose, but I'd like them ASAP.
Mmmmmhm.
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