Leaving

Sometimes I wish I could just live in the shower. Leaving the sanctity of my hot, relaxing water is terrible to contemplate. It's probably the favorite part of my day. No, I am not a hypochondriac, but I will address that later on. It's where I do most of my thinking, at least creatively-speaking. Well that's not entirely true. Waiting for sleep to come in my bed is where a lot happens, too. But we're not talking about beds. We're talking about my showers and how wonderful they are. As I was in the shower, this lovely idea popped into my head. I should write a collection of short stories and call them Meditations on Tragedy. Too cold? Too simple? Too passe? I don't know. Maybe I'll write them. Maybe I won't. Getting back to glorifying the Almighty Shower, I can't think of a better place to sing [insert favorite shower song here, for I have many], cry [it's happened before], or just be.

Now, I promised I would discuss the issue of hypochondria, if you were paying attention earlier. For those of you who have made it this far, you're doing well. The end is in sight. I'm not a hypochondriac. Do you ever think of how you're going to die? Some people try not to. They find it terrifying. Some people are enamoured by Death and how it will find them. I am not of either group--just somewhere in the middle. I'm not terrified by the idea of dying. What I do mind is aging. But that's not what I wanted to talk about right now. I have thought of how I will die--some people want to go in there sleep, others guns blazing. I have this sneaky suspicion that I'm going to end up in one of those hospitals you see on tv. I will use Seattle Grace for my example, to all of you Grey's Anatomy fans. I was catching up online and watched three episodes in a row. I saw that little boy die and his parents donated his organs. I know I'm not that young anymore, but my life is just as unlived. That's how I think I'm gonna go, bite the dust, eat it, etc. Is that natural, after having watched the depressing tv that I do? Or abnormal? I don't know. How will you leave?

A New Era

Just to recap what's happened since I last wrote:
1. Barack = 44
2. School started.
3. I'm in Minneapolis.
4. I think this might be the semester in which I actually enjoy my classes.

So my schedule's kicking my ass. I picked it, though, so I'm not going to complain too much. Thus far, I really like my professors. I'll check back in with you soon to give you a progress report on the State of my Classes. I'm definitely working for the weekend of respite. Oh yeah. That starts Friday, suckas.

Welcome to the New Year

Normally, I make some lame resolution about working out more. Needless to say, they rarely last long. So this year, I'm going to do things a little differently. If I work out more, it will be of my own volition, not in upholding some ridiculous resolution. I've decided that I'm going to focus on two things: being more mature/respecting the choices of others (even if I don't agree with them) and learning to let go of things I cannot change (for myself and others). It's not going to be easy, but I will make a conscious effort.

And with that resolution in mind, I vow to end any silent grudges. Well. At least one. I am only human, afterall.