Handle with Care

The limits of my stability are currently being tested; if I have ever experienced a combination of conditions more difficult than right now, I've blocked it from my memory. Allow me to recap.

- I lost my laptop this weekend. I left it at the Brighton Park pool on saturday night, and when I came back looking for it Sunday afternoon it was gone. The office hadn't had it turned in.

- Robin and I got paintballed last night. Not only did we miss the majority of trick-or-cheese to instead file a police report, I'm now paranoid about white pickup trucks in general. And yes, it's probably far too late for them to be caught.

- Severe Audrey angst. Those of you privy to the details have seen filtered entries.

- It's now November. That means I have exactly two weeks to do all the reading and writing for a research paper on Charles Fourier, that's worth 25% of my grade for History.

- I got my 105 midterm back today, with 48/60. Nearly two-thirds of the class got 50 points or better. So yes, I bombed it, by my preferred standards anyway.

- I have no idea how to go about the first problem on the Algorithms assignment conveniently due tomorrow.

- EDIT: No, I will NOT BE VOTING tomorrow. Yes, I want to. Yes, I'm in somewhat of a battleground state. Yes, I am registered. Yes, I fucked up so I have no absentee ballot. Everytime I hear "you should go vote!!!1!" I get a little more bitter.

I want to be a working human being, I promise. But this is your fair warning that, if I explode at you, it is no fault of your own.

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(no subject)

Certain people are (at least, were ten minutes ago) sitting out on the quad, blasting music directly at East (I suppose this is coincidence, since they're at North), passing around a hookah as if it were perfectly natural.

Idealogically, I think marijuana shouldn't be a controlled substance, at least not any more than tobacco or alcohol. But my patience is currently in a place where that's the ONLY think that kept me from calling campsec on their stoned asses.

If I still lived at East, I might have anyway. Honestly, would it kill the buzz that much to migrate forty feet up the hill and smoke in the courtyard?

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Score: 1.

I have my laptop back.

(Trying to mediate the whiny attention-getting-device posts with happy thoughts.)

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