Lazy, Hazy, Crazy

This was probably the last day for quite a while in which I could do just about nothing and get away with it. Things are about to pick up, you could say.

Ironically, events are more or less supposed to "cease" in the Middle East. For the time being, at least.

I feel like the Beatles or the Monkees or whichever sixties band it is should be droning on in the backgroud about the seasons changing. And turn, turn, turn.

I honestly believe I don't know what I've gotten myself into with Communications/Productions class and its ensuing camp for the next two days. I have no idea what to expect, but hey, neither did all of the other journalists on their first day, as compiled by Garret Matthews in Past Deadlines, Past Lives, one of two Public Library Friends Booksale purchases. I thought I'd brush up a bit for the first day.

I hope I don't have a Paris Gellar on my hands.

It sounds horribly, horribly cliche, (which in and of itself sounds even more cliche) but tomorrow (which I guess is now today) is the first day of the rest of my life.

I'm on my own time.
Doing my own thing.
Responsible for myself.
And, inevitably, all the crap I know I will take on that I shouldn't for my own sanity, but I secretly love and really want to do.

Turn, Turn, Turn.