Life. It [Continues]

Life is too easy when I find myself complaining to myself because I have to write a paper that doesn't involve creativity.
I hate research. I hate having to do interviews. I hate writing page after page adhering to the rules of grammar.
If I sound spoiled, it's because I am.
What's my major? Oh right. Writing ARTS.
Read short stories. Don't buy textbooks. Write responses to what you read. And here's an assignment: Translate a formal piece of writing into "black english."
(I kid you not)
So I'm getting my socks all up in a tissy over my journalism and magazine writing classes. I'm feeling the pressure of deadlines that I don't want to ever come. And at the same time...I'm sleeping in until 10:00, drinking wine in a hammock, and indulging in synthesized pop music with noise canceling headphones from the comfort of a living room that looks way more homey than any college apartment ever should.
(I'm still kidding you not)
Want proof of my apartment? I'll give it to you.



Ah. College.