Who invented this blasted language anyway?
Darn homework.
Ok. So we all know that if I would've just shut up and left the post, posted after this beautiful photo... it'd pack a far better punch. But I'm a natural born rambler and my brain is coming up with all sorts of thoughts... like these:
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If the prefix "ortho" means straight, or normal... does that mean that orthopedics have to be normal? None of that mental stuff?
Maybe I'm learning more about the comical capabilities of the libraries computer lab. If only I was armed with some headphones. (There's this guy sitting a few seats over who randomly bursts into that one laugh that sounds more like snores. In harmonic... patterns. Or like he's blowing his nose. For a second I was getting semi annoyed, but then it magically transformed into the funniest moment of this hour at the library...)
(Wow. He's really cracking up over there... haha. What fun there is at Snow's homework institutional facilities.)
I've discovered that I'm a midget. My feet are seriously dangling above the floor when I sit all the way back in this chair. I feel like such a child. Oh wait, I am!
I learned that you feel like a criminal if you ever visit the library with the flu(ishness- whatever this is,) because if you cough or sniffle or something everyone looks at you like you just assassinated Mother Theresa. Who might already be dead. Yup. In 1997. (Google is handy.)
(Bahaha, seriously. This kid. I wish I got that much joy from my Library experiences. But I guess it's fine either way because his laughter is definitely contagious, and so I thank you, random guy with the giggles, for making my day.)
Sometimes under severe sleep deprivation combined with scholastic stress, the song Elvira decides to serenade you via telepathic radio.
When you start craving toast and the cheap-y not very delicious chicken (although that word part is used loosely here) noodle soup and you can actually smell it... you should probably undergo some psychoanalysis to make sure you're not food schizo or something.
"A few signs that you need to go home": when you try to spell blood with an e at the end. (I mean really... Bloode? Why not throw in some extra o's for more glamor? :p Goodness. (And I just spelled glamor, glamour.) Like I said who invented this blasted language anyway?)
Sometimes boys wearing tight clothes who's colors remind me of Christmas, and dawned heads of dunce-like caps of birthday wonder strut into the room like they're the coolest thing since French Toast. (Which is a joke. Because let's be candid here, who doesn't love french toast more than dunce hats?)
You should never position yourself next to a window when you're trying to get academical stuff done. Windows elude to freedom. The blue sky looks so happy and breathable... all the warm lighting of the sun starting to set reminds you that you're pretty much spending all night in this confinement of college duty.
Finally, when you've reached the point where you're giggling because the root words cran, and crani make you think of little cranberries and their grandmothers... it's official. You've gotta blow this pop-sickle stand!
(And with that little adieu, I'm really for seriously blowing the pop-sickle stand. I'm gonna go eat that cheap soup and toast that I keep smelling.) :p
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