Say it Aint So-o-o

I'm SO not ready for school to start back up. Seems like I just got the f*ck out of there. Drudging through hallways in-a-line, and going up stairs face-in-ass. And where I live, you have to talk like this: "Oh my gawd, howr yeh? Oh goooood, I'm fiiine tyooo. What classes are you taking this ssssemessster? Oh wow me tyoo! [insert annoying porn-star giggle]"

How much longer am I going to force myself to experience such drudgery? Is my degree worth it? Significan Other says don't stop now, I'm this [ ] close. Red voice on my right shoulder says, 'FUCK IT ALL, QUIT NOW.' Glittery White voice on my left shoulder says 'Smart girl, don't give up on your goal. All will be like gumdrops and rainbows!'

What to do what to do. I know I'll keep going. I'll get my happy little degree and go about my happy little career, probably pop out a screaming baby.

Or will I?

I always saw myself as that eccentric artist with paint in my hair, always wearing a button-up outer shirt with pain smeared everywhere, bitching about the republicans and sipping lattés. Sitting in my lounge chair with an Apple Powerbook (like this one I suppose) clacking away novels that fans claw each other over, yanking that last copy off the store shelf with a triumphant YESSSS! Or opening my art gallery downtown, flinging my photography on the walls of the elite wealthy and throwing fabulous art parties full of gay men with excellent fashion sense.

More later.