Erin is tired.

Just finished off a bowl of squash soup. I didn't have any ginger to add to it so I put in extra pepper, all of which sunk to the bottom of the bowl only to be found suddenly by my unsuspecting tounge. Ouch, that's good pepper.

Tonight already I've drilled myself on my lecture notes and stared at the stars until I was dizzy, the stars of Ursa Major Alkaid, Alcor, Alioth, Megrez, Phecda and Merak and Dubhe. I used to know all this stuff but now I forget. It's not that important anymore anyways. They don't control me.

I could write horoscopes though, just as well as anyone else. I could write fortune cookies too, but I already have. Some of them came true y'know. Apparently there's a special flickr group that deals only in chickens and I seem to remember them asking for the one in that pose specifically. I don't want to know why. I gave it to them anyways.

I drew a picture for you but it was covered in blots. Maybe I should have used a different pen. Maybe the blots were the whole point of the thing. There must be something lying latent in there somewhere.

Ponder it, grasshopper and tell me tomorrow.

At this stage in the game my concentration's shot. Here I am making lists of things I want to do over the summer when summer's not for another two weeks at least. That being said, should I take anthropology or women's studies over the summer? Both worthy, in my opinion, but I can't take both.

The majority of my plans for the summer hinge upon getting a second job. It's simple.
job + stinginess - tuition payments = Erin goes to Norway.
Though a much more logical solution to this equation is
Norway arrives on Erin's doorstep = Erin says hi. That's how it works in my brain.

Did I mention that my brain is fried? It's always like this this time of year. I need some time off.