I'm still me. See?
There is still a lot to be done, yes. Studying down here in the lobby tonight was good for me. It reminded me that I am apart of this; first year. Fourth years have worked their way up to where they are now. We're still kids, sort of. As much as we can be. Oui?
I handed in my philosophy essay this afternoon into the drop box. "Wait, where are my arguments again," I asked Rae on the way to the philosophy office. Too late, but all well. I finished an outline for my art essay due Tuesday. I'll have an essay on the go for the next few months. I'm coming to terms with this. It's all learning.
"Guys, how am I doing?"
Friends encourage friends not to be creepy while complimenting the girls they want to quote unquote, get with.
"Okay, so you want to get with Kelsey tonight, let's not lie."
I am so entertained. They are about to go clubbing.
"Don't be too direct. Don't be too forceful. Just, like, tell her..."
Is this weird? I am a bystander.
Kelsey comes. "Okay, this is Michelle, can we go to the bar now?"
She lost her clutch. She needs to have it. She's recruiting a search and rescue.
"I found it. It's on the chair."
The girl who talks to boys in class has to get her ID. She's the one who only types out what the professor writes on the board. No room for interpretation or analyzing.
She is holding an orange sippy cup on purpose.
The flock accumulated and ran out.
I remain constant.