Somehow, my weekend is gone. We had a whole extra day, and yet, somehow, I have accomplished so, so little. How did this happen? Why does this always happen? Am I really to blame, or is it the gremlins that speed up time? I wonder.
I had a long list of things to get done, homework-wise, but almost none of it got done. I am having some issues with getting my interviews lined up for my journalism article (due next week -- YIKES), and that is very frustrating. I'm still drawing a blank on my next paper. And I'm not yet prepared for my presentation Tuesday. All in all, epic phail work-wise, weekend.
It wasn't a particularly exciting party weekend either. Lots of people going out downtown where I can' go with. Ho-hum. Nineteen, you are so close and yet, so far away. A fake ID would be great right about now.
Well, back to work. I'm hitting the hay early tonight. Why do weekends make me more tired than weekdays, yet I accomplish less? So many questions in this post, so few answers.
PS: Claudia Kishi was my childhood style icon. I'm glad I'm not the only one who loved her a lot.