Aug. 23rd, 2007

fleaball: (Joey nyeh)
So the barbeque yesterday went pretty well. Shit got screwed up but people had fun and that was all that mattered, I guess.

Classes start today. Rawrgh. I still have three hours til my first class. Wtf. There are a million things I could be doing right now too, but I'm waiting for a phone call from a kid I'm supposed to be buying a textbook from. So I really can't go out and do crap. I mean I can, because he'll be calling me when he's on campus anyway, but it's just annoying because I feel rushed like I can't do anything anyway.

Yay, I scheduled an appointment to give blood next Wednesday. I's excited. And Jet's coming too. Whee. WHEE. Hopefully it fucking works this time.

Okay, I'm going to suck it up and go pretend to do things. Definitely hit the Career Center. Here we go.
fleaball: (Default)
So school food got worse in the few months I haven't been here. What the hell?

What the hell at the Career Center, too. There were three girls in there for over an hour, and I don't even think they were looking at the stuff sitting in front of them (which happened to be what i wanted to see). Yesterday I saw a flyer looking for like, an office assistant in the Chem department, which I immediately got excited about. Then I realized, I think that's what Allison's doing right now. Damn.

...Five hours later, I come back to write this. So anyway, I was talking to Jet at dinner and she said you're not allowed to work in a department you're majoring in, so at some point I would probably have to scrap the aforementioned job if by some miracle I got it. So... eh.

I am so not looking forward to this whole school thing. Political Christianity seems cool enough. 100-300 word paper each class, and a 1200-1500 word paper at the end. Not too bad. I'm freaking retarded and checked the wrong website for the book though, so whatever. >> Need to get those now. Boo. Booo.

I really need to get my ass organized this semester. Really. D: This is going to be a hard year and I can't afford to screw up. Yay, no pressure.

That said, I'm going downstairs to print stuff. Whee.


fleaball: (Default)

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