ďA bit of fragrance always clings to the hand that gives the rose.Ē Ė Chinese Proverb
Ladies, whilst shaving your legs, has your hand ever slipped ? Sideways? Razors arenít meant to go horizontally, pull them UP, not sideways. A perfect razor line behind my left knee has dripped blood all morning. Oops!
But onto the fun stuff. Class was great, another perfect paper, though this time, it wasnít just a perfect score Ė she did not find ONE COMMA out of place. Written by my 100% in my professorís handwriting is EXCELLENT! WELL-WRITTEN! Thatís right, baby. I fear the day my paper is not AS perfect, as I donít pretend that a bit of my attitude relies on being the best. Perhaps thatís just another lesson Iíll have to learn, and be all the better for. Mmmm, beeettteeeerrrrr.
Last night was relaxing, despite my messy place and the fact that I was cracked out from too many shots of espresso on an empty stomach (again, oops). I wrote in my personal journal. I updated her (did you think I would tell all of those things to a male journal? Well, maybe) with highlights of the last three weeks, peeks at the next several. I wrote about being in love, and how perplexing it is to me that my feelings for someone can increase every day. You wonder if it has a cap, and just when you think it does, it proves you wrong.
I wrote about school, and family, and my overall confidence and general happiness. I noticed something that disturbed me Ė my writing in my journal had taken on a professional tone, rather than the poetic, emotional tone I prefer to express myself with. I havenít been writing any poetry, as my motivation for such a style usually comes from painful feelings. Funny, I always found beauty through pain. I wonder about that.
Despite my chill mood, I feel snappish and impatient with the people around me here at work. I think itís time to shut that office door of mine, put on my ear-things (theyíre not really earphones, I donít think, because they go IN your ears), listen to music and work away, undisturbed by assholes and unhappy people with nothing better to do than push my buttons, few as there are.
Just kidding. I have a lot more buttons than that. Before I let you go, just to give an example, last night in class the woman next to me was flipping through her papers. This created a little breeze every few seconds on my arm, and I was COLD, therefore it began to piss me OFF. I thought it would stop. It didnít. Finally, I said, ďCan you just FIND the page already? Look at the goosebumps on my arms, you're flipping those right ON me!Ē She took offense. Oops.