One Month to Go...

Today is April 6. One month from now it will be May 6.

Wait. I think I'm moving too quickly. Can you keep up? Are you keeping track? Okay? Good.

Anyway. The point I am trying to make is that there is exactly one month of school left. Two days later, I will get on a plane and go back home to the wasteland that is Tucson, Arizona. Okay, it's not really a wasteland, but compared to Seattle, it's the fucking Sahara.

Sitting here on my bed* all I can think about is how I am pretty much drowning in how much I have to do in the next four weeks. And it's Art School, so that means every final is a fucking project. Oh, how I long for literary analysis and essays, essays, essays.

Just to give you an idea, here are all of the things I need to have done before the end of the year:

• Research paper on Absurdist Theatre (rough draft due tuesday, have not written anything.)
• 1960s shift dress** (I have to sew it from scratch. Just obtained the pattern today.)
• Ground plan for a theatre (Bane of my existence. You don't even understand my hatred. It's all I ever talk about.)
• Research paper on Prohibition in Seattle in the 1920s (For my BS, pass/fail Humanities class. I could probably just spit on a piece of paper and turn that in and pass the class.)
• Play review
• Three response papers for plays that I have yet to read
• "Metaphor" Project (...I don't even fucking know. I know I have to paint something. I. Cannot. Paint.)
• Pack up my room
• Move out

Holy fuck I just stressed myself out.

I think I need one more night of slacking off before I seriously buckle down. Tonight is that night. I'm going to talk to my friend Lorrie for a while, watch an episode of Doctor Who, and read Books of Adam. Tomorrow, shit's getting real.

I apologize for the gratuitous profanity in this blog post.

*Why do I even have a desk? It's basically just a flat storage unit. I don't sit there. My chair is a coat rack.

**This thing: