les incompétents

although i'm up to my ass in gawain (zing!), i couldn't resist telling you about the douchenozzle sitting a couple of tables down from me. so, i'm at the hilldale area starbucks, and this fucktard is sitting over there, with a fucking espresso doppio, wearing glasses and loafers, reading the marx/engels reader, which he has clearly read already, as evidenced by the copious assortment of colorful tabs he has littered the book with. i'm pretty sure he's not reading it for a class, since finals week is basically over. and i'm pretty sure that he's not a grad student because he does not have any kind of note-taking apparatus, and he is not even writing margin notes. so my conclusion is that he is just a douche-y asshole. the only way it could be douche-ier is if he were also wearing corduroy pants, a black turtleneck, and a neck scarf. 

not that i'm saying, of course, that there's anything inherently wrong with wearing loafers, reading marx, or drinking straight espresso. in fact, i have been known to do all of those things on occasion, although not all at the same time, and not in the middle of a starbucks. 

gah. now some other dickfaic just sat at the table directly next to me (seriously, there is not even a foot of space between us), despite the fact that literally every single other table is empty. and he's fucking whistling to himself! oh my christ i'm gonna stab someone soon.     

coyote ugly

i have a very love/hate relationship with mornings. i'm sure that anyone who knows me, and especially anyone who has had to interact with me before noon, would most definitely not characterize me as a morning person. i am always frazzled, half-dressed (okay, not really half  dressed, but you know what i mean), and rarely on time. partly, i think this is just characteristic of me, but usually it is mostly due to my inability to think clearly when i'm half asleep. even though i know from years and years of experience that waking up is not the end of the world and that once i get up i will in fact generate enough energy to make it through the day, every single time my alarm goes off (assuming i even wake up enough to register that it is in fact going off), all i can think of is that i am so. fucking. tired. and this happens whether i've had 4 hours or 10 hours of sleep. 

but. i love being awake in the morning. when i actually can convince myself to wake up early (which is quite seldom, as you may have guessed), it is totally the best thing ever. mornings are so full of potential. even if i don't end up actually having a productive day, i don't know that yet in the morning. mornings are quiet, refreshing, clarifying, energizing, &c., &c. my tragic flaw, of course, is that pivotal moment of sleepy deception in which my body tells my brain (or maybe my brain tells my brain?) that there is no possible way that i could get up at that moment without being completely miserable for the entire day (week, even), so i might as well just keep sleeping. and, usually, i give in to this whore of a feeling, only to finally wake up feeling dirty and used.