Finals Week?! Whaaaa?

It's amazing how lacking in drive I am right now. Finals start next week and I'm seriously considering skipping my anthropology test.

I've always been a fairly inconsistent student, but when you add a hatred for the school, the fifteen minute drive it takes to get to the school and the idiocy of the professors there waiting for me, it makes it really hard for me to find the will to get out of bed or to even hop in my car and go to class.

I'll fail anthropology even if I don't go to the final, but I might as well go and try to get myself a high F. Guitar's gonna murder me since I'm terrible with strumming patterns and switching chords. Creative Writing is the only class I feel I'll pass with flying colors. I wasn't always in attendance, but I worked my ass off on the assignments and it paid off. I'm now published and soon to be published again.

This tells me what I should do next semester: Stick with the English program.

I'm going to start private guitar lessons this summer (hopefully, if it doesn't cost too much with the added bonus of paying rent), so taking a class in the fall would be a waste of time and money (even though I adore Benedetti). Anth I'll just take again with a better teacher. Might as well.

English, however, will fill my schedule (hopefully). I know I want to take Novel Writing and the editing class (Acorn Review). I need one (maybe two) more three unit classes to be made full time and still have a little leeway if I decide to drop a class.

I have all of summer to figure it out.

But first, I need to start studying for finals.

Horror Stories

In grade school, there was this kid Eric. He was friends with everyone, but for some reason the popular kids thought he was awkward (when what’s really awkward is that the popular kids managed to be popular in a school with only 40 students). I don’t know where Eric is now, but I know he was in high school for 5 years. Anyway, I remember one year for English, we all had to write horror stories. Every story based on the students in class had a common theme: Eric’s death.
I wonder how he felt about that. I wonder if hearing his own death scene in ten different versions scarred him in an irreversible way. I wonder if I’m to blame for some of his bad childhood memories. I wonder if he even remembers that assignment.