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wMonday, February 09, 2004

feeling: like muttering
listening to: nothing


Apparently maintenance people in this dorm have elevator privileges just because they're maintenance. Whether they're carrying any maintenance tools/equipment or not, I don't think I've ever seen a maintenance person take the stairs. Not even to go up or down one floor. I just missed having to share an elevator with two empty-handed maintenance ladies who wanted to ride from the first floor to the basement. One lousy floor. Down. They had to wait longer for the stinking elevator than it would've taken them to walk 10 steps to their right and walk down the stairs. And I thought I was lazy.

You know what I don't understand? How it is that the stereotypical overstressed businessperson, who never seems to catch a break and sleeps no more than 4 hours per night and probably downs a couple gallons of coffee a day and burns through a pack or two of cancer sticks a day and likely has a fondness for spicy food, doesn't end up with an ulcer the size of Texas. Maybe a lot of them do and I just haven't heard about it, who knows. But geez, look at me. I go through your average college student routine, except I probably had less stress than the typical student because I just never have anything better to do than study, for not even 4 years, I refrain from overly spicy foods, I don't smoke, I don't drink, and I've never had a drop of coffee in my life (yeah, yeah, I intend to amend that soon... Mirror Lake has this cookies 'n cream capuccino flavor that I'm dying to try). And I end up with an ulcer. What is that? It's a darned good thing I'm not in college to go into business or medicine or some insane stress factory like that. None of my organs would have any internal lining left by the time I hit 25.

Yes, my ulcer seems to be healed now, but since when does that stop me from complaining? That thing screwed with me for four long years before it finally hurt so bad I had to be carted to the ER. Then I had to go on a diet, after already having lost 4 jeans sizes due to unrelated circumstances, until my medication ran out. I only recently re-established intake of fried and semi-spicy foods. Of course, that's just because I'm paranoid, but still. I had reason. Shut up.

Don't mind me... I just feel like complaining this morning. I mean, hey. That sentence explains itself. It's morning.

So hey, I am now able to write a total of 400 kanji. That puts me at... about a 3rd or 4th grade level, I'd say, by Japanese standards. Hoohah! Of course, that's not to say I always remember all 400 of those at any one given time. I've probably forgotten a good quarter of them. I need to study more. Better yet... I need to study.

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dragged from Becky's stream of consciousness at 2/09/2004 11:03:00 AM


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