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May. 7th, 2002

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I've started clenching my jaw again. I first did this several weeks ago when things were falling apart all over the place. Now it's just stress from it being finals week and there being much work to do. I'm at the library now and determined to stay here until I've gotten a substantial amount of work done. Good things it's open 24 hours a day this week. And there are about 500 words standing between me and being done with Musical Aesthetics forever. That's not so many, right?

Hmm, I think I should make a playlist of music for studying by. But later.
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I'm in the thesis tower. There are three of us in here, two at one table. And the two of us at the one table both have tangerine iBooks.

I managed to mention Britney Spears in an academic paper. I don't know if that's clever or a travesty.

Oh, wait, there are four people in the tower. One is sleeping in the corner and went unnoticed by me.

Um, smoke smell. Cigarette maybe? But why am I smelling this in the thesis tower?

Halfway through the second page. Single spacing. Yes.

I have over 800 words! (You know you're a science major when writing a paper of even 1200 words is torture.)

So close to 900 words I can taste it.

The library is not bad if it is conducive to me getting my work done.

Next year I intend to read a lot. And not just because I'll have two reading-heavy classes. Other reading too. It will keep me in writing shape. Particularly reading good writing.

I'm halfway through my battery power. But I have the power adapter with me. And there's a surge protector to my right.

The other day when I mentioned having to work on the paper that I am currently writing, John told me "write something I would want to read," or something similar. I'm still not sure exactly what he meant. Maybe I was just kind of drunk and he was tired.

If I write one more significant paragraph and then some sort of conclusion, I'll be golden.
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Dear god, the library lobby smells strongly of... feet. Could it be all the highly weird shit at the stimulants table? Or just that there have been so many unwashed Reedies going through here on account of finals week?
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Paper is DONE and turned in!

Once class down, three to go.

Now all that's standing between me and freedom from sophomore year are two finals and five lab reports.
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Score another one for "Dawn Doesn't Have A Place To Live Next Year." Admittedly, this last attempt was a shot in the dark, but still. Kind of disappointing.

And why do a bunch of the promising-looking places have to have a goddamned cat? Not that I mind cats, I just can't live with them because I'm allergic.

Grr.

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