It's no Brit Lit...

....but I'm still not doing it. All I have left is my calculus final [tomorrow morning at 7:30 a.m.--Good God, help me], and I've reached the point where I simply don't care anymore. Sure, I'll care about 8:00 tomorrow when I'm finished with all the problems I can actually do and still have, oh...4/5 of the test left, but not so much now at 8:37 (computer lab time).

If I *really* wanted to be semi-productive without studying, I'd work on packing, since I [looks around, whispers] haven't really started yet. Egads, I know, but I *do* have until 6-ish tomorrow evening. I'll probably spend the most time trying to move my furniture back into its original spot since I won't have people down the hall to help move it all like those I helped today. I swear, when your greatest accomplishment for the morning (beyond the history final--don't get worried, Mom) is not dying while re-lofting a bed, it's an interesting way to go about your day. I'm sure that's going to be one of those moments that I really wish I took pictures, although the chunks missing from my rubber mallet are probably evidence enough.

I don't know why, but I keep trying to spell "probably" as "probalby." I'd guess I was rushing, but why do I want to go back to calculus?

I just had a sandwich and some chips for supper today, and then I stayed there for over an hour--just hanging out with people I won't see for three months. I'm happy to go home and leave behind tests and papers and etc. and have time to myself again, yet I'm already mourning the loss of my college freedom, friends, and craziness. I suppose it'll hit me even harder tomorrow when everything's packed and ready to disappear the moment my dad knocks on the door, but I'm trying not to focus on it tonight. It's hard enough to think about calculus of my own volition, let alone with other thoughts popping in, also.