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i sat in my roommate's leather POANG chair yesterday, continuing my descent into stonedness, and realized that i have got to stop sitting on the floor. my back and neck have been experiencing some odd sensations lately - i don't think "burning cold" is a good one to feel. my spine re-aligned itself and clicked all its disks back into place in that leather luxury.

i was celebrating the release of a piece of crap - a paper on francois furet/lynn hunt, political discourse and ideology, language and symbolic imagery, french revolution french revolution, bleeeeeeeeeah. i don't even know. i finished it in a delirium at 6pm (didn't really "finish" it, but knew it had to be done) which is when the class started.

i was also celebrating the fact that i approached my professor again after class (mostly to warn her of the impending shit i was handing in) and she received my babblings quite pleasantly! and i gave her my lament that yet another professor was unable to help me out/be my advisor for my major research paper, but all roads were leading me to prof. hottie. so she looked at me and asked, in the way someone would ask a crying child if a cookie would make them feel better, "would you like to work with Hotster?" (for that is his first name) "yes, i'd like that very much. and a cookie."

and she'd say his name over and over and over again, and i would have to un-register each time, NOT react, NOT tell her that i've been stalking him for oh-so-long now and perhaps THAT'S why i've not heard from him. ahem.

i did tell her that i saw him at a recent lecture. then we talked a little about the lecture instead. phew.

after coming down a bit last night, i developed a powerful headache - seemed like most of my skull was in a vice grip, and lucky me, i woke up with it still present. i've popped a huge naproxen, but it's not stopping the tendons in my neck from snapping loudly, or the sensation that my back is frozen.

lordy lordy look who's forty.