A Thursday

I'm studying for my last final exam of the semester, which I will take at 7:00. A headache is lingering where my skull meets my neck, a clear indication that I was entirely too drunk last night. I was. And I knew it. Everyone else was celebrating the ends of their semesters. I, on the other hand, was simply celebrating. All I really remember were a lot of embarrassing moments being had by many a person, lots of yelling and jumping around, and of course, tequila shots. Left over sticky salt on my hand. All of it meaningless once my head hits the pillow.

I feel I did well on all my other exams. My history paper was a challenge, as was the video project I turned in for J210. I'm glad to be (almost) done. I have a month and a half to dick around, try to become more intelligent (not to mention more fit...), learn about the Italian culture and become stable on my own. That last one might not be accomplished until I'm actually forced to leave the country and BE on my own. But I can try.

The dog sleeps curled in a ball by the window, exhaling quiet puffs of air rhythmically. Across the room, the Christmas tree stands unlit, looking sad in the shadows of the passing gray afternoon. All I can think is that I hate living in suspense, and I want the weight sitting in my gut to lift and I want to feel as though I truly believe I'll be stable. I have the ability.