stunt_muppet

First order of business: Yet another pimp for ihasaobjection.  It's like "I Can Has Cheezburger" with lawyers.
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I had a dream last night where I was a guy.

Sort of. See, in my dream, I was still me - all me, including my feminine identity and my built-in Cortex Feminista - but I was in a guy's body. I was in disguise, or undercover, or something, because there was some secret mission I had to do and I had to be a guy to do it.

John Cleese was my senior partner/mentor/advisor for some reason. He looked like he did in A Fish Called Wanda.

There were some other parts to the dream, but all I remember was me complaining about having to be a boy and John telling me to stop whining and get my work done. 

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I think it's quite unfair that, when I'm trying to do other work, I suddenly get these fabulous ideas for words and phrases and stories to write, be they for my original fiction or my Creative Writing homework or my fanfic. I can think up a story, almost in its entirety, while I'm lying on my back procrastinating on my Drawing project. 

And then, once I actually sit down to write them - in an effort to silence Muse and clear my head so I can focus on the task at hand - they're all gone. All of them, except for a few bits and pieces. And I'm stuck staring at the blank page and typing out what little I can remember, and what little I do remember sounds really stupid once it's no longer in my head.

Also, my spray-paint project for Drawing looks more and more like a Front Line Assembly and/or Enigma CD cover with every passing day. Worrisome.

I haven't been here much because this semester is still handing me my ass on a platter. I still don't know my major, nor do I know what I want to do for study abroad, nor do I know what classes I'm going to take next semester because I really can't decide those until I figure out those first two. All these decisions are bearing down on my head, and I don't have the faintest idea how I'm going to make a decision. Instead, I'm just trying very hard to pretend that it's still my freshman year and I don't have to worry about any of that, la la la I can't hear you. 

It's not working too well.

Also, cutting back on my Internet time is actually kind of painful. Once I unplug myself, turn off the TV, and get my work done, I just sort of sit here and wonder what I'm supposed to do. I mean, I could talk to my friends, but odds are they're working too. And I could read or make jewelry (Pixxi, your present is coming along nicely), but that wouldn't solve the leaving-my-room problem. 

So I end up going back to work, or reading, or writing, or beading. I'm not very good at this.

Also, there was another spider in my room last night. I maintained self-control and dispatched it quickly and cleanly. I may be bad at having a life, but at least I'm getting better at handling spiders.