Photo by David Mushegain
...but instead, I am fully clothed, not smoking, not wearing sweet cowboy boots, and reading textbooks.
I got some direct-opposite-of-encouraging news from my law school career seminar yesterday. Although there were free pizza, I quickly lost my appetite once the speaker basically told me that I would not be able to find a job after school (gotta love the economy) and that I would die poor, neck-deep in debt, miserable and alone. Uplifting.
After thinking on this a little more, I decided that she could eat my ass-crack and I felt better about the whole thing. I'll just work harder and harder every day and then no one can tell me my damn business.
Later, I went home and hung out with Maxwell. We played Scrabble, watched It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia re-runs, listened to old-timey Christmas music (early, but who cares) and downed an entire bottle of birthday wine (the best kind) and chilled the f out. It was a very very good night.
Aaand break is over, back to sturdyin'!
I've always felt that telling people to eat my ass-crack is the best therapy there is.
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