a vestige of thought...
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Z is for Zis is Ze End of Ze Alphabet!
Congratulate me, all, I have finally finished the alphabet. Remind me not to start something like that again.
I have just spent the past four hours sitting in Kinlaw Library. For most of this time I was hitting myself over the head with a book called "Power Sleep," or perhaps the one called "In Bed with the Food Doctor," and periodically stopping to furiously type something about how college students are ruining their lives by not getting enough sleep. I wrote three and a half pages today, and I figure that if I write 1-2 pages a day from now until Kingdom Come, I will finish on time.
It's so very quiet in the library. I mean, it's usually quiet in the library, but today particularly so. On weeknights there are usually groups of students whispering to one another and multiple sets of hands furiously clicking over laptop keyboards. Saturdays, however, those who dare to venture into the library do so because they intend to sit down and stay there and not move until they have finished such and such a task. There is little talking, quieter clicking, and an air of hazy boredom. The resulting studious atmosphere often leads me to look up from my work, stare into space, and wonder profound things like, "I wonder if that was chicken salad or tuna salad on my sandwich at lunch..." or "Is it true that guys on one side of the library are cuter than those on the other?" (A girl on my hall claims this is so.) At this point I accidentally catch the eye of someone or other else who has gotten lost in irrelevant thought and both of us quickly go back to our work, denying the fact that we ever ceased our studying.
After eleven (wow, really?) weeks at school I, this very morning, have finally discovered the secret to doing the laundry and ending up with truly washed and dried clothes. To wash in cold water with a regular cycle, choose the 'bright colors' setting. Put an extra quarter in the dryer for an extra 20 minutes and (hooray!) dry clothes. Most weekends so far my room has been filled with drying racks and every available piece of furniture covered in my still-damp 'clean' clothing. I am happy to have finally discovered the secret.
I can hear the familiar deep breathing that tells me someone has fallen asleep in the big, comfy leather chair in front of me. I could do a whole study on sleep deprivation in our very own Kinlaw Library. I wonder if perhaps we should rename this place 'the naptime building with all the books.'
My battery icon has just turned red, which is my computers way of figuratively holding a gun to my head and saying, "Plug me in or else." I don't have my power cord with me, which means I had better go back to my room. Farewell!
Lesson of the weekend: In case of the advent of a new ice age, either stake it out in a huge library and burn the books to keep warm, or trek through the blizzard with Dennis Quaid, because he survives, even though the extreme cold freezes everyone else instantaneously (cf. The Day After Tomorrow).
I have just spent the past four hours sitting in Kinlaw Library. For most of this time I was hitting myself over the head with a book called "Power Sleep," or perhaps the one called "In Bed with the Food Doctor," and periodically stopping to furiously type something about how college students are ruining their lives by not getting enough sleep. I wrote three and a half pages today, and I figure that if I write 1-2 pages a day from now until Kingdom Come, I will finish on time.
It's so very quiet in the library. I mean, it's usually quiet in the library, but today particularly so. On weeknights there are usually groups of students whispering to one another and multiple sets of hands furiously clicking over laptop keyboards. Saturdays, however, those who dare to venture into the library do so because they intend to sit down and stay there and not move until they have finished such and such a task. There is little talking, quieter clicking, and an air of hazy boredom. The resulting studious atmosphere often leads me to look up from my work, stare into space, and wonder profound things like, "I wonder if that was chicken salad or tuna salad on my sandwich at lunch..." or "Is it true that guys on one side of the library are cuter than those on the other?" (A girl on my hall claims this is so.) At this point I accidentally catch the eye of someone or other else who has gotten lost in irrelevant thought and both of us quickly go back to our work, denying the fact that we ever ceased our studying.
After eleven (wow, really?) weeks at school I, this very morning, have finally discovered the secret to doing the laundry and ending up with truly washed and dried clothes. To wash in cold water with a regular cycle, choose the 'bright colors' setting. Put an extra quarter in the dryer for an extra 20 minutes and (hooray!) dry clothes. Most weekends so far my room has been filled with drying racks and every available piece of furniture covered in my still-damp 'clean' clothing. I am happy to have finally discovered the secret.
I can hear the familiar deep breathing that tells me someone has fallen asleep in the big, comfy leather chair in front of me. I could do a whole study on sleep deprivation in our very own Kinlaw Library. I wonder if perhaps we should rename this place 'the naptime building with all the books.'
My battery icon has just turned red, which is my computers way of figuratively holding a gun to my head and saying, "Plug me in or else." I don't have my power cord with me, which means I had better go back to my room. Farewell!
Lesson of the weekend: In case of the advent of a new ice age, either stake it out in a huge library and burn the books to keep warm, or trek through the blizzard with Dennis Quaid, because he survives, even though the extreme cold freezes everyone else instantaneously (cf. The Day After Tomorrow).
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