Oh for...

[suspectclass]

So my mom talked to my ex who works in the office of Student Affairs (why is it that *I* never get her on the phone, but my mom does? It's a mystery), and she has been assured, and has passed that assurance on to me, that I will most likely get placed in my top-choice house, or it's mirror image, my last-choice house. Whatever. After the threat of beau parlor habitation or a roommate, I'll takes what I can gets.

I've had a long hard day, I'm tired and my brain is starting to seize (not like a siezure. Think pistons). My girlfriend is going bowling tonight. I'm not sure if I'm going, because we didn't make plans, but at this point, sitting at home with my hamster and my journal doesn't sound so bad. I worked so hard today, and I'm here an hour after I thought I'd leave (just like yesterday), and it feels great. Despite the mundanity (it's a word, I swear) of the vast majority of my tasks, it feels fantastic to work whole days again. I feel fairly productive, especially since I actually had work to do that required a modicum of thoughtfulness on my part. Joy!

Comments

[freakysparks.livejournal.com]

What is "beau parlor habitation"?

[masscooper.livejournal.com]

The reading rooms downstairs. I'm guessing it's the rooms where boyfriends waited for or sat with Smithies back in the day. Sometimes when they overadmit they make people live down there. Visiting a cappella groups and Navy boys often sleep there as well.