I’m sick of the Internet, and that means it’s just about time for the semester to be over; for me to go home to my tear-jerkingly slow dialup connection. High speed Internet is nice, but it’s too easy to just sit here and do an unenjoyable nothing.
With that, I’m going to leave my computer for the moment. I’ll come crawling back in five minutes or so.
five seconds later:
Yesterday I fell asleep studying in the Magic Study Room in the library. I was suddenly jarred awake, and ran to check out a clock. Crap. Jazz starts in five minutes. I threw all my junk in my backpack and speed-walked to Humanities to grab my horn. Just for fun I checked a clock there, to see how late I was.
I had an hour until jazz starts.
Ya see, the Sexy Library of UMD has these artsy clocks that don’t have numbers. They’re these neat polished wood things with 360 degrees of ambiguity. The stubby hour hand always points to a general space with no point of reference. The clocks don’t tell you what time it is, but rather give a suggestion of possible hours it could be. It’s like tomorrow’s weather forecast. Minutes appear to be :32-:36, with potential hours ranging from 3 to 4.
This form before function thing kind of irritates me. I had to spend the rest of my nap in the A.B. Anderson lounge, surrounded by bitchy art majors and permeated with Metallica’s S&M being played really fargin’ loud.