Nodding Off

*sigh*

You know what? I'm a little tired right now. Sitting on my bed in my uncircumcised penis sweater*, listening to Lana Del Rey's most recent songs, and I'm TIRED. I actually fell asleep in class yesterday. Not just the kind of fall asleep where you start to nod (trust me, there were a lot of those nods), but the kind where you have absolutely no clue what is happening when your eyes open.

Wait, we're learning about me being a ninja and fighting Yoda who throws pizzas of death in my Psychology of Culture class? Oh right, that's my dream, calm down Ryan.

You know what else is happening right now? Or happened I guess--but the signing up for class war that happens near the end of every semester.  Midnight approaches on the fateful day that the freakin' internet will allow you to sign up for classes and I'm sitting there at my kitchen table, paper with CRN numbers in hand, and a twitching hand on my keyboard.
Midnight strikes (or 12:01 really).

No class for you.

I'm frantically typing numbers into little boxes and pressing buttons like a madman. Why have they made this a virtual hunger games? Students fighting each other virtually getting into classes and cheering; tears of joy leaving trails down some faces as they know that they are safe while others are doomed to death (or just their second choice class; either or).

 Hm, well this class got full really quick, what do I do now? Well I just switch these two clas--NO! How could it be full already I didn't even--WHY AM I NO LONGER ENROLLED IN SCHOOL. (Slight exaggeration)

So after I stopped beating my head against the table, I went to bed, woke up, banged my head into the table for another 24 hours and then fixed my schedule. It isn't exactly what I wanted it to be, but it will do.  That'll do schedule, that'll do...

The really odd thing is that this is my last semester at the good ol' SUU. Last. Semester. You know, I don't wanna get into that now, let's talk about something. Let's segue like when your 10 year old asks what a dildo is! (Can I say that here? Oh wait, THIS IS THE INTERNET, MUAHAHA)

Hey, do you guys want to know an excellent self-esteem boost? Well, after working at the school today (I talked about what I do here), I went and chatted with the receptionist who sets my schedule and do you know what she told me? Of course you don't, I'm telling you right now.  She told me that I looked like I had put on more muscle over the summer and that it LOOKED REEEEEAAALLY GOOD ON ME.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh.  If there is anything better than having an older receptionist tell you that you look rather muscly, I don't know what it is.  It might not fix my jacked up sleeping schedule, but I'll take it.



*Ugh, fine I'll explain why it's called the uncircumcised penis sweater. You know, do I really have to? I mean, it's sort of self-explanatory. It looks like an uncircumcised penis around my neck basically or so one of my friends said one day and it stuck. Will I continue to wear it and call it that? Of course.